Blue Skies and Silver Linings
by Dusky Raptor
Summary: The old gods are not kind. They are not benevolent. They do not discriminate, nor do they pick favourites. When a young woman is pulled into the world of Pokémon as a result of their warring natures, she must adjust quickly for her own survival or risk being swept up in the tides that threaten to crush her into submission. Updates Sundays.
1. Prologue: The Place I Called Home

**Blue Skies and Silver Linings**

 **Prologue:  
The Place I Called Home**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri and all that entail. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 _ **Summary**_ **: The old gods are not kind. They are not benevolent. They do not discriminate, nor do they pick favourites. When a young woman is pulled into the world of Pokémon as a result of their warring natures, she must adjust quickly for her own survival or risk being swept up in the tides that threaten to crush her into submission. A very loose Alpha Sapphire Nuzlocke run; Hoenn-centric with mentions and nods towards other regions made.**

 **Notes: Hello one, hello all! Welcome to _Blue Skies and Silver Linings_! This is but a humble yet very loose ****Nuzlocke** **adaption of Alpha Sapphire. It's a somewhat meta self-insert that involves a member of the armed forces being brought into the world of** ** ** _Pokémon._****

* * *

 _I found my time, but I lost my youth  
I played the game but forgot the clues  
You can't evict me, my life is still there  
Now that I've lost my home, I could go anywhere  
_ **-"** _ **The Place I Called Hom**_ **e" by Hudson Taylor**

* * *

"Jesus fuck. With all this crazy weather shit going on, it makes me think it's the end of the fucking world or the zombie apocalypse is on its fucking way or some shit. What d'ya think, Sergeant?"

Lance Corporal Hammond was sitting at one of the old desks that had been donated by a local shelter; the unit was still so new that the funding for even the simplest of office supplies such as desks or chairs or even a box of pens was still tied up in all kinds of funding red tape. Getting it untangled and the funding from the overseeing higher command available was taking longer than expected and causing all amounts of grief from the Commanding Officer downwards. And shit rolled downhill, so if the CO was complaining, then the lowliest of the unit often got piled under a mountain of shit.

Such was the ways of the Marine Corps.

Fortunately, that didn't happen as often if those junior Marines had any good leadership protecting them.

From another donated desk in the empty warehouse-turned-office-space, Corporal Whitehall laughed like a hyena, leaning back with his hands laced behind his head, teeth flashing as he grinned at the ceiling of the mezzanine above them. Sheltered beneath the alcove of the raised platform, they could see everything—from the security cage that was currently locked, to the twin bay doors behind the cage, to the barren walls that were awaiting pallet containers that could store away their unit's future gear. The only true-blue office space that had four walls and a door was off-limits for the time being.

That was mostly due in part to the fact that no one in the compound had a viable key for the office, so locking it at the end of the day was out of the question. And the fledgling tech support of the unit were struggling to get even the simplest of phone connections implemented in the office, never mind the harrowing journey to get an internet connection that was to come afterwards.

Everything was turning digital in the Marine Corps.

The one thing that wasn't turning completely digital, however, was the ages-old verbal bitching and moaning.

Every Marine was good at that, face-to-face, person-to-person and it never got old. It was practically a tradition, as old as the Marine Corps' legacy itself.

"Hell, if anyone's prepared for that kind of shit, it'd be us, right? Semper Gumby and all that shit."

Another round of laughter from the several others sharing the space sounded off, bouncing off walls and all around them. There were five individuals stuffed behind donated desks from the local Good Will: Lance Corporal Hammond, Corporal Whitehall, Sergeant Montoya, Sergeant Renaux, and Sergeant Hawkins.

Sergeant Hawkins was the only female in the fledgling unit.

A few more raucous jokes were passed back and forth between them all, just shooting the shit to avoid the day's work. Skating to avoid work was an art, and just about every Marine knew how to do it. The jokes soon took a turn back towards bitching and moaning. They began to bemoan their shitty new work detail, the conditions they had to work in, the lack of funding and supplies and entertainment beyond in town. They mentioned their old units, and how they had everything they needed and better work conditions. They were half-lies.

Everyone had their gripes about their last unit. There wasn't a soul that didn't. Looking back on it in hindsight, however, made the heart fond for something that was a few steps better than where they were now.

All in all, Sergeant Hawkins was reminded of her first duty station in North Carolina. The only source of entertainment in the town next to base was the movie theater. Sure, there had been a few bars and a more convenient movie theater that served alcohol for those who were of age on base—but it had been at the cost of being recognized and chewed out by other Marines who were also there to catch a movie. At least in town for her, no one could tell she was a Marine with her hair down and no uniform on. It wasn't so easy for the guys, who were easily recognized just by their haircuts alone.

The town she currently worked in was almost an hour away from the closest base, where she and the others were forced to bed down in. But the town surrounding her place of work had similar venues as her first duty station did. There was only one local bar, aptly and perhaps a smidge ironically named The Watering Hole; a Marcus Majestic branch-off theater down the street from The Watering Hole that was locally nicknamed The Pic Flicks; a Piggly Wiggly grocery store; a barber and hair salon shop in the shopping strip next to that called Hair Done Right; a Chinese delivery food place called The Wong Place; two tailor shops whose names escaped her; a small vet clinic; and lastly a little pet store called Big Al's that sold both pet supplies and pets. That was all down the main street of the town.

Further on down the road, there was a few local credit unions, a Well's Fargo, a small library, a nail salon, a Domino's pizza place that was booming with business, an antique shop, and a Walmart sat at the very edge of the town. The same military base that was nearly an hour away was shared with their fellow service members from the other branches. Primarily, it was an army base, but there were those from other branches that lived there as well.

The town surrounding the base, therefore, was a hodgepodge haven for these members, who simply crawled about through every place of business and then some.

The one good thing that Sergeant Hawkins could say about the commute was that it was mostly clear the entire way through. The worst thing about the commute was that it was nearly an hour away. A downside to this was that Corporal Whitehall and Lance Corporal Hammond didn't have cars of their own. One had lost their means of transport to an unworthy engine death and the other had just transferred in from schooling. The Marine Corps, in all its wisdom, denied all those who went through their job schooling the means to maintain their own transport.

In layman's terms, the Marine Corps treats its own members like children, no matter how old they were.

It was really insulting, to be honest.

That soon became the next topic that was broached, and by then, Sergeant Hawkins was tuning out Corporal Whitehall and Lance Corporal Hammond and Sergeants Montoya and Renaux as they barreled on through another series of plans for the weekend. Well, plans that hopefully wouldn't be derailed for the third weekend in a row. The work never seemed to cease, and it was beginning to take its toll.

"—so far, word hasn't come down that we're coming in and by now we'd know if we were, so I think I can make it to this guy's house that's selling a nice Ram, only got about sixty-thousand miles on it, no accidents—he just wants to upgrade and get rid of what he's got, ya know? You think you still got time to take me down to his place, Sergeant Renaux?"

"I dunno, man. My girl's flying in to see me for the weekend, and we're working on finding a place for when she moves out here for good. We were actually gonna go look for a place together closer to this area, ya know?"

"Oh, nice. When's she coming in?"

"Tomorrow at noon. Might need to find someone else to take ya. Hey, Sergeant Hawkins!"

At that point, Sergeant Hawkins was actually finding herself drifting into actual work—and being the only supply person on deck, it put the responsibilities of supply admin, supply clerk, supply warehouseman, and supply chief all wrapped into one giant supply package that was then heaped on her shoulders. Too fucking bad all the codes to order anything for the unit have yet to be approved by higher headquarters…

When she realized she was being called, she had a series of faces turned toward her, looking quite amused at her spacing out.

"What?" She finally grumbled back.

"You think you can take our little Lance Coolie out this weekend looking for his fabled vehicle of fortune? I'm sure you're tired of driving him to work every other morning, same as us."

"It would be nice if he got his own ride," she remarked wistfully, before frowning. "You sure Gunny Hendrix hasn't given us the 'you're coming in this weekend' word yet?"

"Haven't heard shit," Sergeant Montoya grinned. "Usually we hear by now. It's looking hopeful we got time to ourselves for the first time in weeks."

"Sweet. All right, yeah. Hammond, when d'ya gotta meet the guy and where?"

"It's out in a place called Nadine or something, about forty minutes from base. Say, weren't you working on getting BAH to live closer to work?"

Sergeant Hawkins stretched in her seat, leaning as far back as her office chair would allow without tipping over completely. Her boot banded trousers popped off her boot and she reached down to fix it back into place. "Yeah, but it's like pulling wisdom teeth without any painkillers and a pair of rusty pliers. There's all these technicalities that're getting in the way. Like not being married or having kids. S'all kinds of bullshit. None of us should be forced to live nearly an hour away on a base that's for the fucking army. Ya know how many looks I get alone from those limp-dicked assholes? Either they hate my guts, think I'm screwing someone to get where I want to go, or they get all mushy and wanna 'hang out' which is just code for them that boils down to 'let's fuck'. It's fucking annoying. I bet they just wanna put in a big ole notch in their belt that says they fucked a female Marine, the dickweeds."

There were sympathetic mumbles all around from the others, and they relayed much the same—minus the vibes that someone wanted to fuck them or thought that they themselves needed to screw someone to get anywhere in their careers. It was one of the few things that, as a female Marine, she more or less faced on her own. Especially in such a small demographic such as this unit. Sergeant Hawkins's own grievances sprang forth a well of similar complaints from the others as they relayed their own battles at escaping the base to strike out on their own. They did, however, report a minor success that their words of woe were being heard by their Commanding Officer, Lieutenant Colonel Thieme, and that he was working on a work around for that obstruction.

Things began to wind down and just in time for Gunnery Sergeant Hendrix to come waltzing into their domain to pass word for the day.

"Good news, Marines—I talked it out with the CO, and we've caught a break. No need to come in tomorrow. The weekend is yours to do with what you will…just don't do anything stupid. If you do, please fucking call me. I don't care if it's in the middle of the day or the middle of the night, I'd rather chew your ass out than to be in the morgue, identifying your body on a cold slab."

"That's dark, Gunny," Corporal Whitehall remarked with a guffaw. Gunny Hendrix snorted as he crossed his bulging and muscled arms over his broad chest.

"Well, it's true. I would prefer not to chew your asses out, but I'd rather do that than have you guys die. And please, if you're gonna get wasted, be fucking responsible. Don't drink and drive. Have a designated driver, go with a buddy, get a cab or an Uber. Just don't drink to get shit-faced blackout drunk, all right? We got enough DUIs in the Marine Corps as it is, don't throw your body onto the burning pile. And if you're gonna have sex, wrap it up for god's sakes. Don't get a stripper pregnant and then try to marry her the very next day, you're gonna hate life."

"You speaking from experience, Gunny?" Sergeant Hawkins queried with a poorly-concealed grin.

"Not my own, but I knew a guy who did that. He pretty much lost everything in the divorce."

"Jesus," Sergeant Hawkins muttered, her smile disappearing with a sympathetic cluck of the tongue.

"Yeah, so there's that. Be smart this weekend and don't do any stupid shit, is all I'm asking." Gunny Hendrix took a breath and untangled his arms to clap his hands together. "Okay, that's it. That's your safety brief. Start cleaning up and when you're done, just give me a quick holler before you guys head home. Be safe, have a good weekend, I'll see you guys Monday, bright and early, same time as always for PT."

"Rah, Gunny."

With that said, he left the warehouse floor. The door had barely closed before everyone was already on their feet, cleaning up their area, taking out the trash, closing down their computers, stowing away their ID cards. The back office, which was mostly being used for storage in lieu of being an actual office, doubled as a changing room. The guys went in first, quickly changing into street clothes, as Marine Corps regulations dictated they couldn't go running around town or stopping for gas in uniform.

As the others began to trickle out, Sergeant Hawkins snuck in to quickly change into the clothes she had come into work with: a pair of jeans, steel-toed boots, a plain black tank top and a red plaid button up shirt over that. It was comfy and well-worn, and by god, it was nice out. The weather was holding out, but any day now, she'd expected a cold-snap to hit them and she'd have to break out the winter clothing. She wasn't looking forward to that quite yet.

As she was locking up the warehouse, Lance Corporal Hammond was waiting for her outside.

"You sure you don't mind taking me to see that truck, Sergeant? I can ask Sergeant Montoya—"

"Nah, it's fine. I didn't have plans this weekend, other than playing some video games."

She motioned for him to walk with her and he did so, falling into step alongside her.

"What games you got, Sergeant?"

"I've got quite a few. Right now, I've been playing _Far Cry 4_ , but I've been wanting to get back into _Assassin's Creed Black Flag_." Truthfully, she still wasn't sure. Her schedule has been rather helter-skelter as of lately due to the last several weekends they've all been working. She's been behind in quite a few games, and yet, she kept returning to games of familiarity, games that she was beginning to know by heart. She might just play some _Pokémon_ while she was at it, just to shake things up a bit. Those were always a series of comfort, no matter how new or old they were.

"Ooh, nice. Hey, have you played that _Horizon Zero Dawn_ game yet?"

"Played it, beat it, working through the DLC. I ain't got much else to do these days at the bricks. Actually, I might just go for broke and play _Uncharted: The Lost Legacy_ again."

"How was that? As good as _Uncharted 4_?" Lance Corporal Hammond continued, excitement bubbling in his voice.

"Damn good. Naughty Dog does some fucking amazing work. Can't wait for _The Last of Us Part II_. Speaking of which, I've also been on the _Dying Light_ bandwagon for a while now. Can't believe I was putting it off on playing it."

It was indeed one of the better zombie-slaying games out there. Perhaps not the best, but it had its charms, especially in the parkour mechanics department. She still had a strange yet special place in her heart for the developer's previous title, _Dead Island_ , however. She was still holding out the hope that the sequel would one day be released.

"Whaaaaaat? You play that? You should add me, we should hit the multiplayer together!"

"Maybe I'll take you up on that, but I'm more of a solo campaign kinda person. And I'm kinda gearing up towards the new _Assassin's Creed_ game that's coming out next month or so." Sergeant Hawkins replied noncommittally. She was, in fact, rather opposed to multiplayer options in games. It wasn't her scene, and she didn't feel like feeding fuel to the fire when it came to creeps screaming obscenities at her.

"Oh yeah, the Egyptian assassin game. Oh, there's another game, what was it I wanted to ask…have you played the new _Resident Evil_ game yet?"

"I'm catatonic from that game, it was amazing and terrifying all at once, and I loved-slash-hated it. It sadly reminds me of a horror game we'll never get though. _Silent Hills._ But we're getting _Death Stranding_! Hopefully next year…along with _Kingdom_ -fucking- _Hearts_ - _III_."

"Oooohhhh yeah."

There was another round of good-natured nattering passed between them as they traversed across the street from the warehouse to the administrative building. They stopped inside to give their goodbyes to Gunny Hendrix inside, before traversing back outside to the front that led to a fenced-in parking lot. Lance Corporal Hammond parted ways with Sergeant Hawkins after that, pattering off across the lot to where Sergeant Montoya and Corporal Whitehall was waiting for him. Sergeant Hawkins sidled up to her own vehicle, an old classic Chevy Camaro. Its gunmetal grey finish gleamed like a beetle carapace, but she noted it was going to need to hit the carwash one of these days and soon. Unlocking the door, she slid into the bucket seat, slipped the key into the ignition and gunned the engine as soon as her foot pushed on the clutch.

She frowned at the faint spluttering complaint the engine coughed at her and eyeballed the dash.

 _Nothing wrong with the fluids, not that I can see. RPMs aren't that great, though. I better check, just in case._

She cut the engine and popped the hood, settling in to hover over the block of metal and rubber tubing. She checked the oil first and clucked her tongue at how low it was.

 _That wouldn't make it cough like that, not where it should purr. I should probably go see the mechanic by base tomorrow before taking Hammond out to see that truck. I have a feeling it's gonna be a long drive out._

After getting everything resettled and the hood shut, Sergeant Hawkins reignited the engine and took off back the way she had come earlier that morning, back to base, and back to her barracks room. The entire ride over, she kept the radio tuned to a local classic rock station and kept a keen ear out for any news concerning weather or animal anomalies to watch out for. She certainly didn't feel like running into a horde of rabid raccoons or zombie deer anytime soon, thanks very much.

* * *

The one thing she appreciated about the particular block of barracks rooms on the floor she resided in: she was the only female sergeant that rated a room to herself. There were two other females that worked in the administrative building next to her warehouse, both of which also had to live at the same barracks as Sergeant Hawkins did. Both of them were Lance Corporals. They didn't rate a room to themselves and had to room with one another. That was just one slight advantageous bounty that came with the rank on her collar.

And, not to mention, the army barracks room was…nice. Nicer than the last Marine barracks she had last resided in. But only by a partial margin. She was tired of living in any series of barracks, period. Field day was a nightmare, considering she had to clean her room under the watchful eyes of someone that wasn't even from her own unit. It was irritating being eyeballed like she was a deplorable little child with sticky fingers that needed to clean up her mess or suffer the consequences of losing all privileges for an undetermined length of time. She was a twenty-seven-year-old woman, she wasn't a little girl.

But, she realized in bitter hindsight, it was what she signed up for, and it was what came with the territory and the job. She had no rights to complain when she had willingly signed herself up for it. It was also one of the major factors that was fueling her fire to get the hell out of dodge and into her own place and preferably closer to work. She had her eye on a few rental properties, and some of them were even pet friendly. She just wasn't sure if she was wanting a dog, a cat, a reptile of some sort, or a bird just yet.

 _Maybe a cockatiel_ , she thought wistfully as she climbed the four flights of stairs, dragging her military-issued pack with her uniform and quite a few other things in it. _Or maybe a German Shepherd. Oh, but I really do want a little kitten, too. But maybe I should adopt. Older cats need love too._

It was only a matter of getting through the hoops necessary to allow her to rate BAH for her duty station. There was a special circle in hell for people who profited and enjoyed people's suffering. And Sergeant Hawkins was most certain that those people worked at IPAC in higher headquarters.

The key hanging out with her car keys was loosed from her pockets and struck home in the lock. Her room was dark, but a flick of the light switch made it livelier. A poster of the Indominus Rex hanging in a frame above her bed greeted her, along with several pieces of commissioned art from favoured artists, and a few collectible statues and Funko Pop figurines from some favourite games and movies. A few binders, sketchbooks, and art portfolios filled with her own art—completed and works-in-progress alike—sat on her bed, right where she had left them earlier that morning.

It was a small collection, but it made her smile and feel less like she was trapped in a tiny room not of her choosing and in a place she could actually kind of look forward to coming back to. Like a hotel room she got to decorate—within reason by Marine Corps standards, that was.

She got her phone out and immediately plugged it into the charger and took long enough to start up a segment of news from her preferred online news station. It wasn't a newly started company, but she had only just recently discovered it and found it to be more refreshing than the mainstream media as of late. They weren't insane like Alex Jones, nor were they dishonest and aimed to sound like a propaganda machination whilst still masquerading themselves "journalists". Propagandists weren't journalists, they were merely trying to sell an ideal or a punchline rather than trying to tell the truth. It was difficult to listen to this particular station while she shared space with multiple others, especially those who preferred mainstream media.

But that was neither here nor there.

She was alone in her barracks room, where she could sprawl out and do whatever she wanted with considerable freedom with few restrictions.

As Sergeant Hawkins puttered around her barracks room, she felt herself deflating after the long day she just had. Her muscles were sore from the full week of PT. Her head was starting to burn with the oncoming promise of a massive cluster headache. Her stomach was growling and churning in on itself, demanding food.

She turned to the decently sized television on its stand and it winked to life after Sergeant Hawkins clicked its respectable remote. She started up the PlayStation 4 and as it booted up, she went to rummage in the fridge, and made a face at the leftovers and frozen ready meals inside. She had no stomach for any of them and pondered the idea of either ordering in (for the fourth time this week), going down to the chow hall (an unappetizing idea due to the overwhelming company there), or heading out to one of the restaurants on base or in town (that meant going back out and it's been a long enough day as it was).

In the end, she fell to the grudging decision that she wanted to do nothing more than to relax, so delivery it was. The town around base was larger than the town close to work, but it was filled with army personnel, large and small, all over. Around work? Not so much. It was almost like being back at home in California. People more or less gawked at her stupidly and in awe when she said she was a Marine and wondered aloud how a tiny little thing like her could do something so challenging, so difficult. It was made even more awkward when they thanked her for her service. What was she supposed to say? You're welcome? It's a pleasure?

She usually found it easier to change the subject and move on with the conversation. Or end it as quickly as possible. Either way was fine with her. She tuned in and out of each news segment as it continued playing, but at the sudden filtering of screaming, she jolted like a bolt of lightning had struck her down and scrambled for her phone to turn the volume down. She stopped, however, at the sight of the picture frozen on her phone.

Slowly, she traced her finger to rewind the video, and started it back at the beginning. The news anchor briefly recalled all the information on the matter before letting the clip play: it was out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and there were pods of whales in the distance, opposite of where the person recording was standing. They were speaking another language, and briefly, the camera swung to include another man on a fishing vessel. She could see lines dangling from a winch, perhaps the one that pulled up and dropped the nets. The boat suddenly rocked violently, sending everyone sprawling to the boat's deck. The cameraman tried to get up, went sprawling back down again. Someone else got in the frame, pulling themselves up using the railing and almost instantly screamed, flinging himself away when something came jutting up after him on the railing.

A triangular nose was briefly seen before it went away. Sergeant Hawkins' heart skipped.

 _A shark_ , she thought quizzically. The cameraman trundled closer, panting heavily as the wind blew hard, drowning out nearly all other sound. The camera was pointed over the railing, and immediately, the triangular nose came into view. At first, Sergeant Hawkins thought it was a Great White given the shape of the skull and jutting jaws and the iconic triangular-shaped teeth.

 _But the colours are all wrong_ , she thought as she watched those jaws jut out and snap at the fishing net dangling below the waters alongside the boat. Her heart skipped again, and her hands grew clammy and sweaty all at once at the sight of a bright yellow star emblazoned across the deep turquoise-coloured head of the shark. She was more surprised by the crimson eyes, just before they rolled back as the shark took another snap at the fish trapped in netting. Blood churned from the wounded and trapped fish, mixing into the water. The shark thrashed, trying to tear the net with its teeth to get at an easy meal. Another shape, just beneath the surface, came into view and the shark with the star on its head and the crimson eyes dove down to greet its competition with a powerful flick of its tail. The video ended shortly after, and the video returned to the news studio with its anchors.

Sergeant Hawkins replayed the clip, noting it was barely a minute, but it felt like an hour had passed each time she watched it, again and again and again. It was mesmerizing, terrifying, exhilarating all at once. Marine biology was a passing fancy of hers, and she found sharks especially fascinating. From the horrific-looking deep sea goblin shark with its pointed nose and long-extending pair of jaws to the unique land-walking epaulette shark that could temporarily shut its organs down in order to survive outside water, they were a predatory species she loved to learn about.

However, she had never seen a shark with a bright star on its head like that before.

Except…except in one place, but that thought was as ridiculous as it was impossible. Fictional creatures didn't exactly exist, as tempting as the idea was. Entertaining the idea was ludicrous. She'd sooner believe that _carcharodon megalodon_ existed at the bottom of the Mariana Trench than believe that a fictional species of shark existed. She would sooner believe that Nessie of the Loch Ness existed than to believe a pocket monster existed.

She turned off the video and settled in to order food instead, finding her hunger outweighing her thirst to solve the mysterious shark species on the video. She was sure she'd hear about this video in days to come on FaceBook from some clickbait science blog and experts would probably identify it soon enough.

When food was ordered, Sergeant Hawkins began to peruse both her digital and her physical library of games, indecisiveness ruling over her. She hadn't thought about it much on the drive in. She had been more engrossed by the series of news stories in between rock songs. Most of them had been about the fluctuating, dangerous series of weather abnormalities plaguing the world—snow in the middle of an Arizona summer day, a flash of Caribbean-style summer heat in Antarctica, so on and forth. Now she wished she had at least thought on what to occupy her, distract her when she got back to her room.

It was all a political hot mess these days, and by technical regulations set in place, she wasn't allowed to have an outward and outspoken opinion about any of it to the public. It wouldn't look good for a member of the armed forced to speak ill of their country's leader…even if she thought him a fucking moron and a horrible man-child who has entertained too much attention on his nonsense caught in so many scandals and collusion plots on a daily basis, it was ridiculous.

But that was neither here nor there at the moment. Out of desperation for something to do other than sit and wait for food, she went fishing for her Gameboy 3DS and clicked it on, turning on the only game in the cartridge without really looking, and began that instead. The opening sequence for _Pokémon Alpha Sapphire_ came onto the screen, the music building to an airy crescendo as it progressed through to the end. She opened up her game, then stared at it in silent panic. She had no game saved.

She stared at it some more, trying to stuff down her dread and indignance.

 _I could have sworn I was playing this just the other day and I had a Blaziken already…_

She went rummaging for her tin of _Pokémon_ cartridge games, her heart beginning to patter a bit faster in her chest. _Please don't tell me I restarted my fucking game—aha! Here's…another cartridge of_ Alpha Sapphire _?_

"What in the actual fuck…?"

She had two copies of _Alpha Sapphire_. That boggled her for a long, hard moment. She couldn't remember for nearly a minute why she had two copies and it began to drive her nuts as she stared at the game cartridge until it hit her like a semi-truck. She had an extra cartridge because she had thought she'd lost her first one when she had first moved out here. She'd ordered a second copy, and the day before the second was due to arrive, she had found the first. Needless to say, she wasn't going to complain, but she hadn't played on the extra _Alpha Sapphire_ , not once.

A few minutes after that dilemma had settled, her food arrived, piping hot and fresh from the oven. She dug in as soon as she was able, enjoying the melted cheese and sizzling sting of pepperoni on her pizza. At last decided that she wanted to be a pirate assassin instead of a pokémon trainer for the evening, and put on _Assassin's Creed Black Flag_ , raring to get through the world of the Caribbean. An envious part of her wanted to visit those crystalline blue waters and enjoy the powdery white beaches, the balmy weather, the gorgeous local life…when it had once been like that.

Nowadays, the Caribbean and the Bahamas all seemed to be plagued with more storms and hurricanes, even outside of the usual season they usually operated under. Not many people visited anymore, and apparently, the economy in several of the island nations have begun to tank. Some were currently on the verge of filing for country-wide bankruptcy, since tourism seemed to have been a huge percentage of income for them, and with storms tearing at their already fragile infrastructure apart repeatedly, it was wearing them down to the point of no return.

Playing video games was as close as she was going to get to a vacation in faraway, exotic places these days.

Just as she finished eating and got ready to play, the skies above opened up with a sudden booming peal of thunder and began pouring rain down on the barracks rooftops.

* * *

It was cool and dark where she lay. It wasn't too unusual. She was in the Midwest, after all, and lately there have been a series of cold snaps cropping up out of nowhere in her part of the country, right in the middle of summer to boot. She had kept her winter clothes together with her summer clothes close at hand, just in case. One never knew what was going to hit them: hot summer rays or cold wintry flurries.

The rain had made it cooler still over the course of the night, but she hadn't changed out of her jeans or tank top quite yet and had thrown on an oversized black hoodie instead. It had been sufficient enough that she must have fallen asleep in it, but now it wasn't adequate to keep the cold at bay.

She shivered and attempted to burrow further into the material of her jacket, but it futile. She needed a blanket. Blindly, she groped with her foot in search of her covers but came up empty and instead her foot collided with something…else. Something solid and unyielding. She groaned in tired dismay, kicking off from the object and pushing further up to get away from the offending obstacle. Rolling to her side, she let off another groan, feeling her side and back twinge in protest. Her body already ached from the amount of training she and the others had done for morning P.T. nearly every day this week before work. Now she had all weekend to relax and rest before starting all over again come Monday…

It was a vicious cycle, but she couldn't complain. Not to her superior's faces, that is. Bitching it out to her co-workers, however, was an entirely different story altogether. And considering she's had surgery twice already on her left hip, being in a state of constant discomfort, and often pain, there was some well-earned sympathy to be had.

Pains and twinges aside, she was more or less still concerned for the cold rather than where she was laying. It was beginning to burrow its way deeper into her bones and she curled inward in hopes of warming herself. It worked, for a short while, until it came creeping back. It didn't help much that what she was sleeping on was uncomfortable, and what exposed skin she had was sticking to the material beneath her. It almost reminded her of her parents' leather couch back home…

Sergeant Hawkins inhaled sharply, her heart giving a sudden and unexpected jolt in her chest. Her lungs squeezed violently, as though the wind had been knocked out of her and she struggled to take in another breath as she bolted upright with a strangled gasp. Bewilderment took over as she craned her head left and then right, her heart still thundering away, her lungs still struggling to intake another full breath.

She stared, not quite taking in what she was seeing. She wasn't even sure what she was looking at. The room was spacious, yet not too large—perhaps a sitting room or a living room—and it was dark still, but the coming dawn was softening the room from coal black to slate grey.

As her eyes adjusted, she could make out shapes in the room: a love seat across from her; a coffee table centered between that and the couch she was on; a small dining table perfect for four cozied up to a corner of the room with the cushioned chairs tucked in neatly; a window to her right; and a television set sat on a long and low entertainment center off to her left.

Curtains were drawn to block out the light of the sun, but they were thin enough that the room was lightening considerably as the minutes ticked by. The front door was further down to the right of the curtained window. In the corners and everywhere else, tucked away from the open space of the room, there were boxes. Some open, some not, and most of them neatly arranged to avoid being trodden or tripped over. Other than those mild eyesores, the room was sparsely decorated and tidily arranged. Sergeant Hawkins took in short, quick breathes through her nose, unaware her hands were shaking until she tried to rake her hair back and mussed it all instead. Shakily, she swung her legs over the edge of the couch, taking her time in standing up.

Her bare feet touched cool hardwood flooring and she swallowed thickly past the growing lump in her throat. The most obvious of questions arose to the front of her thoughts: Where was she? How did she get there? Where was 'here'?

Once she managed to gather enough of herself, she assuaged her anxiety and immediately began to look around for a lamp, a light switch on the wall, anything to illuminate the room. She needed to find her phone first. Find out where she was, call someone to come get her, and after that…she'd cross that bridge when she got to it.

She began running through a mental checklist of events leading up to her day previously: she woke up early, got ready for PT, showered afterwards, got dressed for work, attempted to get the ball rolling for the newly stood up company in the morning, got blockaded by higher headquarters decisions (or lack thereof) on several items and the list was only growing, had a meeting with her superiors before lunch, dicked around with everyone in the afternoon until they were released, came back to her room, got dinner, played games…

Went to sleep.

Woke up here.

She was hyper alert to the scene now. She needed to leave. _Now_.

Sergeant Hawkins moved to sidestep past the lane between couch and coffee table and instead nearly tripped over a bulging object in her path. She stumbled, arms pinwheeling about as she tried to circumvent falling over and dashed forward a few steps before managing to correct herself. Heart rate hiking up into yet another marathon race, she gasped, eyes wide and searching in bewilderment for the offending object. She felt her heart jump from her chest all the way up into her throat at the sight.

It was her pack.

She began reaching for it, just as the doorknob to the front door swung open, and framed by the halo of early morning light, a man stood in the doorway.

For one breathless moment, they stood frozen in time, staring at one another. She was terrified to breathe and thought, _I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming, this is a dream. I'm not really here._

So she held her breath, trying to will herself back in her bed at the barracks, to awaken under her pile of cozy blankets and comforter, to feel the early morning chill that accompanied the hours before dawn. Her head began to swim and she relented in taking a long exhale.

The moment was shattered when she moved, her shoulders dipping and her arms pressing closer to her body. Or perhaps the man had moved, his legs shifting into a fighting stance, shoulders stooping forward, as though he was ready to charge her. She wasn't sure.

All Sergeant Hawkins knew, in the second that the spell between them was broken, a sudden trill and spark of radiant light burst forth in the room, blinding her with its brilliance. Before it had even faded, she heard an authoritative command bellowed, and suddenly, she was thrown to the floor, pinned by something heavy, hairy, and horrifying all at once.

"I dare ya t' fight back. Please, make me day by doin' so."

When her head stopped flaring with pain and her vision settled, she could see through the murky grey shadows cloaking the room, what was pinning her down. At first, the only impression she got were teeth hovering too close to her face, sitting in a grinning mouth set in a face surrounded by rough white fur. Not human, she immediately deduced, and that terrified her the most. Eyes glinted in the mercurial atmosphere, glaring down at her as the not-human face scrunched into a snarl, flashing those teeth at her again. As more details began piecing themselves together, her brain came to a grinding halt as she stared, wide-eyed, frozen. She was seeing it, but she wasn't quite believing it, even as she kept gawking, dumbfounded into absolute silence.

It was a goddamn pokémon.

* * *

 **Some terminology and facts that you might appreciate!**

 _ **Semper Gumby:**_ **"always flexible"; this is a play on the Marines' motto of Semper Fidielis, "Always Faithful"**

 _ **Rah**_ **: Shortened version of "Oohrah". Only Marines say "Oohrah". Not soldiers. Not airmen. Not sailors. Only Marines. If Marines are depicted in media as saying anything else, the writers are wrong and should have done a quick fucking Google search, because it literally takes less than ten seconds to find this shit out. (It really pisses us off. It does.)**

 _ **Gunny**_ **: Short for "Gunnery Sergeant", which is an E-7 on the enlisted half of the rank scale. They are more or less head honchos of their respective areas, although they could also be second-in-command for their immediate work force to, say, a Master Sergeant or First Sergeant (both are an E-8, but have respective differences in work and leadership roles) or a Sergeant Major or Master Gunnery Sergeant (both are an E-9, and again, have respective differences). There's more technicalities than all that, but I won't get into it any further than this for now.**

 _ **P.T.:**_ **Physical training. Exercise, in other words. Utilized on a "by command's discretion" on how much time is devoted to it per week and what time of day it is to be executed at, but PT is generally mandatory in order to maintain peak physical conditions that are demanded of the Marine Corps.**

 _ **IPAC**_ **: Stands for "Installation Personnel Administration Center. The people who work there are the ones you go to when submitting changes in your personal life that require paperwork. New marriages, divorces, birth of children, filing taxes, change of duty stations, things of this nature. It's to accommodate and benefit Marines and their families, their units, and whatnot—but sometimes, those people just love pulling last-minute bullshit to thwart your attempts at bettering your life with the most simplest of skills: bureaucratic incompetence. Mainly, your incompetence (and their own via communication omissions, such as failing to mention what is needed to be filled out, and making people redo paperwork over and over AND OVER AGAIN.) Only they seem to know the arcane ways of filling out the paperwork properly and only they seem aware of the newest and latest editions of paperwork needing to be filled out. Got an outdated edition? Fuck off, better go get the new stuff and start all over again.**

 _ **BAH:**_ **Basic Allowance Housing. Essentially, an allowance of extra money afforded to military members who live in housing off base, and it's based on the average pricing for homes in the zip code area closest to base. Those who live on base housing also rate BAH—but they never see it in their paychecks because base automatically takes it out to pay for rent of housing on base. The caveat to that detail is that only married Marines or Marines with children in their custody rate BAH. Some exceptions to that rule are case-by-case (such as living near a base that isn't a Marine base while on special duty, such as some of my guys from my last, real-life unit). They lived off the Naval base after a while in the barracks, managed to snag BAH for their cases, and eventually got married, thus earning their additional pay for having a dependent (spouses, children, and family members that you may care for count as dependents.)  
**

 **Some notes on the uniforms as well...**

 **Marine Corps uniform regulations dictate that while in cammies (the desert or woodlands utilities uniforms) a Marine cannot wander around town doing whatever business they want, such as grocery shopping or getting gas (the exception being of course, if you live on a base and these facilities are available on base). Outside base, you need to be in approved civilian attire, or in an approved military uniform that is allowed to be utilized for stuff out in town. This is mainly for security reasons and to reduce the risk of painting a bullseye target on a Marine's back and making them a target. This is also why you'll most likely never see a Marine in uniform boarding an airplane like, say, a member of the army. We, as an entire branch, view it as unprofessional and just plain nasty. It's just our collective hive mind opinion.**

 **Seriously, ask any Marine what they think of an army member walking around in their cammies in public off base, they'll say it's nasty. The higher-ranking officials are especially vocal about this.**

 **They're also vocal against Marines putting their hands in their pockets, because apparently, Chesty Puller is rolling in his grave on the matter, even though we all know Chesty Puller wouldn't give a fuuuuuuck what you do with your hands, especially in cold weather.**


	2. Chapter One: Denial

**Chapter One:**

 **Denial**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 **Notes: Whoo, boy! I had an interesting round of reviews that doubled as constructive critique! Thank you so much! However, I will have to ask, as respectfully as possible, to keep any disagreements you may have with others in the review section…** ** _please_** **keep them out of the review section. If there are disagreements between two or more parties, then I implore you to keep it private. I don't want my story to become a battleground, and I would greatly appreciate it if people didn't nitpick another reviewer's critique. It feels…petty. I do welcome healthy debate and constructive critique, so long as it's for me, rather than as a second-hand spat towards others. If you have concerns that involve me, I don't mind you hitting me up in the PMs. If you have concerns with another party, I again implore you to take it up with said party. I'm not here to play favourites or side with anyone, so please don't try it with me.**

 **My whole thing is, I want people to enjoy the story. If there are mistakes, I appreciate it being pointed out, but I also love it when you point out your thoughts on the whole rather than just the parts of chapter! It helps me know what needs improvement, and what you enjoyed!**

 **Secondly, to sort matters out, I served eight years in the Marine Corps, and in my previous unit before I got out, I was the only full-time, active duty female in my tiny unit. We are human, and we can be dumbasses, just like anyone else that aren't in the military. We just happened to have access to big trucks and big guns while we were being dumbasses. HA! Seriously, you can Google stuff on Marines being dummies, and I would recommend the comic strip series** ** _Terminal Lance Corporal_** **by Maximillian Uriarte if you wish to enjoy more Marine culture in humourous situations while learning about said culture at the same time!**

 **Apologies for the lengthy notes! I'll try to not do it often. With all that said, let's move onwards and upwards, and let us enjoy the new installment of** ** _Blue Skies_** **! Thank you again for the lovely critiques and reviews, my fine readers!**

* * *

" _History says there was an explosion, who am I to argue with history?"  
_ _"_ _Usually the first in line."  
_ **-The Ninth Doctor and Rose Tyler, "Doctor Who"**

* * *

"I'm telling you, I have no fucking idea how I got in that house!"

Her hands had been cuffed for a better part of the day, her back and shoulders were aching from sleeping on that couch for god knows how long, and it only worsened after all the manhandling and…and being thrown to the ground by a…

 _No, just…no. Pokémon do_ not _exist. They don't. They just_ don't _. I'm dreaming. I_ have _to be dreaming._ A beat passed at the thought, before she grimaced. _But if this is a dream, than it's a pretty damned uncomfortable one._

This was all made worse by all the _waiting_ —Christ, she hated waiting, it was the story of her life in the military alone—especially when hunger was gnawing angrily at her gut like a starved animal, and no one has offered her anything since she arrived at the police station hours ago. Not to mention, she was bare-footed and freezing. She was sure they had cranked up the A/C in the room just to make her uncomfortable.

Time only seemed to be dragging itself further now that this interrogation was underway.

It's been a long morning and yet it's felt even longer, like a lifetime has passed her by ever since she had woken up and even longer since she had gone to bed the night before. Without the passage of time, either with the sun's mark in the sky or with the use of a watch—neither of which were available to her—it was difficult to tell exactly what time it was. For all Sergeant Hawkins knew, it could be the day after she woke up.

The first and most obvious thoughts that crossed her mind were of her wondering if Ashton Kutcher had, somehow, revived his old _Punk'd_ television show or if she was somehow involved in a _Jackass_ -style guerilla film. Now she felt as though she was simply waiting for Steve-o and his entourage to leap out at her laughing like maniacs. Unfortunately, there were no shenanigan-and-adrenaline-fueled idiots coming forth to fess up their ruse. No one was ripping away hidden cameras to shove into her face or to reveal tiny microphones feeding her every word to a live audience. There were no declarations of "GOTCHA!" shouted at her.

Isn't that what everyone hopes for when they end up hauled into a police station, dazed and confused, with no notion as to why they were being brought in? That they were being pranked, either by professionals with a camera crew or at least their friends with an iPhone recording everything?

No, no. She was certain that this was real, and she was hating every single second of it.

Now that the shock had passed her some hours ago, there was only a cold metal desk, a hard seat, and glaring phosphorescent lighting glaring down on her.

Sitting across from her sat an older gentleman, donning a simple outfit of an off-white button-up shirt, a navy-blue tie noosed under the collar of his shirt, suspenders connected to his dark trousers, and an age-and-weather-worn face, burnished from years of squinting at paperwork…or perhaps crime scenes. His hair was dark, but it was dashed through with some grey peppering his temples. At his side, sitting quietly on its haunches, but with its attention trained solely on her, was a burnt-orange and black-striped fire-breathing dog that _couldn't_ _possibly_ exist, because _pokémon don't exist_.

Sergeant Hawkins wanted to cling to the notion that she was still sleeping. Or in a coma. Or hallucinating. Anything else that pointed to the contrary. Her attention drifted to the dog again, and her mind corrected it to, _it's a Growlithe_ and then she re-corrected herself to, _nope, not possible, it can't be real. Nope, nope, nope! It's just a dog. Just a regular dog!  
_

She wanted to scoff at her own denial. Then she wanted to scoff at her denial of her denial.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Sergeant Hawkins jolted in her seat, startled, squaring herself back to face the cop across from her again. If he had said anything prior to shouting at her, she hadn't caught it at all.

He looked annoyed and weary, with bruised-looking flesh beneath his sunken eyes. He clenched his stubble-infested square jaw, and she could just make out the sound of teeth grinding against teeth. His clothes were rumpled and just as tired-looking as their owner. He tiredly took a long-suffering gulp from the mug of coffee resting beside the scarce pile of papers in front of him. His sepia eyes roamed across the words scrawled on the first page, then the second. The noise of pages shuffling about and grazing across one another was deafening, the sound amplified by the tiny room. Sergeant Hawkins grit her teeth at the sound, her nose wrinkling into a faint grimace. Her eyes strayed away once more, for only an instant, to glance at the large mirrored surface adjacent to their table. One-way mirror. Standard procedure. Someone was watching on the other side, recording everything for good measure. Wanted everything on the record.

She'd seen enough cop shows to know that they weren't alone, not really. There was some truth in television, after all.

"So," the cop across from her started. _Hanson, Detective Hanson is his name_ , she told herself. He had introduced himself earlier as Detective Hanson. He introduced his Growli— _dog_ _partner_ —as Cassius. Cassius stared her down as Detective Hanson continued. "You refuse to give your identity or home of record, your trainer ID, your registration paperwork…basically anything and everything related to you, specifically. You're quite mum on the word, aren't you?"

Sergeant Hawkins said nothing. Partly, it was out of a stubborn resolution to listen to her gut, and her gut said, "don't say anything". Another part of her was too fucking terrified to talk at all, even if she wanted to speak. She didn't trust herself to not blurt something out that would make her appear unstable. She didn't want to be lumped into the same category of people who hawked their beliefs to the world how the end was nigh, nor with conspiracy theorists who wore tinfoil hats to keep the government from reading their minds.

Things already looked bad enough as it was for her.

"Am I being charged with something?" she finally inserted, frowning at the cop. He grimaced back, his face contorting until he spoke again.

"You were trespassing on private property, and in a gym leader's personal home, for that matter. What do you think?"

"Then don't I get a lawyer?"

"Why would you need a lawyer if you supposedly didn't do anything wrong?" Detective Hanson countered gruffly.

"I _didn't_ do anything wrong, as far as I'm concerned. I meant what I said. I have _no clue_ how I got in that house. I was home last night, went to sleep in my own bed and then I woke up on that guy's couch."

"Uh-huh. Sure, Jane Doe." The cop glanced over at his _dog partner_ and they shared a fucking look with one another. A fucking look! Sergeant Hawkins pretended not to notice. "And where, exactly is your home, again?"

 _Jesus fucking Christ, I'm in the Twilight Zone. I went to bed playing_ Pokémon _and_ Assassin's Creed _, and I was bound to dream about both of them. Or dream about one them, at the very least. When am I going to wake up?_

Deep in her gut, she already knew the answer to that, and those thoughts swirled in her head, making it hurt with the possibilities that she could and couldn't fathom all at once.

 _I need to give them something,_ she thought as she wracked her mind desperately. _Pokémon, pirates, military, the barracks, fucking robot dinosaurs…fuck, fuck, fuck!_

"Shay."

"What?"

"Just...just call me Shay. Shay Kenway."

A moment of panic. Thinking about pirates and video games and her waking life merged together in a moment of pure panic and exhaustion and the sudden, irresistible urge to say something, anything in the face of what was leering down on her. It had been the first name that came to mind and it had been blurted out with reckless abandon, without real thought put behind it.

 _Shit. I didn't mean to say that._

The terror-induced lump returned to lodge itself in her throat at the faint look of approval in the cop's eyes. They glinted and flashed like the eyes of a predator hot on a trail that would lead to a fresh kill. Her gut twisted again, this time to drop a little further down her abdomen in dread.

 _Stupid. Keep your fucking mouth shut._

"All right then… _Shay_. Now we're getting somewhere. Let's try this again—"

He stopped quickly at the gentle snort of his partner, whose head snapped toward the only door leading out seconds before it opened. Another officer, this one in uniform, stood there in the doorway, tipping his head in Detective Hanson's direction. His eyes slid toward her once, briefly, then was back on Detective Hanson.

"Need a quick word."

"Can't you see I'm busy?" He replied, motioning lazily in Sergeant Hawkins' direction. He scowled at the other officer.

"Not with me. Chief's orders. He wants to see you."

Detective Hanson issued a heavy exhalation, a noise that sounded as though it took every ounce of effort from every part of his body to expel. He snatched up his mug and the sparse sheets of papers. He whistled sharply and called for Cassius to follow him. Just like that, she was alone again. Waiting.

God, she hated waiting. It was just like the military. Hurry up and wait. When someone with more rank or a bit of shiny on their collars wanted something from you, it had to be snappy and quick. If you needed something, it was simply the waiting she was left with. She wished she had a book or something. She had a book or two in her pack, if she recalled correctly. Her pack had been confiscated back at that man's house when the cops had arrived, before she could even investigate what was inside it. Probably her wallet and military ID and driver's license…

 _But they said I had no identification on me. Or maybe they're trying to psych me out. Trying to see if I lie. Shit. I shouldn't have said anything. I done fucked up._

Sergeant Hawkins couldn't recall if she had had her wallet in her pack. It was all fuzzy, like a dream she was trying to desperately hold on to and it was simply slipping through her fingers like water.

She didn't have to wait as long this time around. She barely even had to wait five minutes. The same cop who came to grab Detective Hanson returned, appearing apologetic as he crossed the room. Dare she even say, he looked absolutely mortified as he extracted a set of keys from his belt, and carefully, gently uncuffed her. Sergeant Hawkins wrinkled her nose, rubbing at her wrists and found them to be just as sore as she expected them to be. Her wrists were thin and bony, so they had tightened the cuffs as much as possible to keep her from slipping out of them.

"Am I getting my pack back or did you guys already sell it for chump change to buy yourselves a new coffeemaker?" She griped. That earned her a bewildered look.

"Um…no, ma'am. We're just getting it out of evidence right now. Everything should be just the way it was before we took it."

"Oh, so no permanent property seizure this time? Good. Maybe I'll hit you guys up with a good Yelp review."

"I'm sorry, but what's a Yelp review?" The officer gave her a rather puzzled look that was bordering on annoyed.

"Never mind." Curbing herself, Sergeant Hawkins inhaled slowly. Now that she was most likely home free, she was letting her annoyance shine through. She needed to keep her tongue in check. The officer motioned for her to follow him. "Is there any reason why I'm not being grilled anymore?"

"Funny story actually," he replied, stepping aside to let Sergeant Hawkins out into the hallway. Standing just off to the side of the door, leaning against the wall, was the man who's house she had awoken in earlier that morning. The very same man who had called the cops on her and then subsequently had her arrested for supposedly breaking into his home. The cop, sensing her bewilderment, smirked a little at Sergeant Hawkins. "He's not pressing charges and pulled some strings to get you out without needing bail. I'd say, ' _thank you_ ' to Gym Leader Norman if I were you."

* * *

Back in the house again. Back where it had all started.

Sergeant Hawkins stood in the threshold of the doorway, awkward and frozen. She stared over at the spot near the couch where she'd been brusquely knocked to the ground and pinned there by a sharp-clawed beast until the cops came and hauled her away earlier that morning. Her throat felt dry as desert sand as she stared at the broad-shouldered backside of the man who had first had her arrested one hour and then had her released from police custody a different hour altogether.

It's been a strange day something like that happens. She just didn't believe anything like that would ever happen to her.

He paused at the front door as he carefully pulled his shoes off his feet, then shed his coat. He made a small detour to drape it over the arm of the couch, unconcerned as he went about his coming-home ritual. Carefully, Sergeant Hawkins edged her way inside, quietly closing the front door behind her. She jumped at the sounds of bellows and chatters and conspicuously loud yawns and suddenly found herself not quite alone with Norman anymore. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight, hoping it'd erase the sight of creatures that shouldn't exist. _That's because video games aren't real life._ _This isn't real, I'm seeing things. Oh, crap. Maybe I_ am _crazy._

When she opened them again, she was still faced with the sight of two Slaking that were lazing about on the hardwood floors, an energetic Vigoroth was tailing Norman into the kitchen, and a few other pokémon sat in a circle facing one another as they preened and chattered. A Zigzagoon, a Spinda, and a Linoon.

The names of the pokémon came automatically to her, as easily as breathing or blinking. It was nearly impossible not to acknowledge them, recognize them. Denying it was only making her head hurt, right at the base of neck. Or was that another cluster tension headache coming on?

The Zigzagoon was venturing closer, sniffing carefully, bushy tail wagging and black eyes sparkling with delight and interest. She backed into the door and flinched when it jumped up on its hind legs and laid its front paws to rest on her knees. Its claws dug in as the Zigzagoon flexed its digits and stared up at her. A fit of panic welled up in her chest and she gently shooed the air while bending her knee, forcing it to hop down.

"Go. Go away. Shoo. Go away, go on now. Git! I said git!"

The Zigzagoon appeared distressed at her apparent disinterest, but nonetheless did as requested and ambled away, head hanging forlornly.

"Not a fan of Zigzagoon?" Norman interrupted. She jumped, eyes darting up to meet Norman's from across the room. He looked even more fatigued than Detective Hanson had appeared earlier. If Detective Hanson's exhaustion had been skin-deep, then Norman's was buried deep into his bones.

"Not exactly in the mood to play," she offered instead. A frown pulled at her lips as she stared at Norman. "I'm still confused as to why you bothered yanking me out of the station, especially since you put me there in the first place."

His dark eyes roamed over her, scrutinizing behind a veil of tiredness.

"I overreacted, and it took me time to sort things out. I've had a long couple of weeks. I apologize for the inconvenience. Now, what would you like for dinner?" He turned on his heel to head back into the kitchen but stopped at Sergeant Hawkins' behest.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. I wake up in your place, without any knowledge as to how I got here, you call the cops and have me arrested after you assault me and accuse me of breaking in, and then you proceed to yank me out after nearly a whole day at the police station, and you just…offer me dinner?"

Norman stared at her, gazing at Sergeant Hawkins as though she were dense. Perhaps she was. She couldn't really tell at this point anymore.

"Yes. That sounds about right. So good of you to join the rest of us on the matter. Now, dinner. I'm afraid I'm not much of a cook, but I can manage well enough. I have a few frozen meals I can heat up in the oven, but if you'd prefer take-out, there's a nice place in Oldale Town that delivers to Littleroot, no problems."

She didn't want to hear those names, and yet, they were thrown out without a care. Oldale Town. Littleroot. Towns that were from the _Ruby_ and _Sapphire_ games. Games she'd had on hand the night before. She wished desperately, longingly to be dreaming, but given the state of her hunger, discomfort, mild oncoming pain, and overall misery she doubted it very much.

With every passing minute, her rejection and utter denial of the current situation was growing weaker.

"I…I'm sorry, I'm just still processing this. Or maybe I didn't exactly make myself clear enough. _Why_ are you helping me?"

"Can't a man admit he's made a mistake and attempt to repair it?"

That threw her for a loop and she snorted derisively.

"I mean…duh. But I still don't understand why you went to the lengths that you did. Why bring me here? Shouldn't letting me go on my way be enough for you?"

Norman lingered in his spot, perhaps cultivating an honest reply suited for the situation, or maybe to chastise her and tell her off and to be grateful she isn't rotting in a cell without being able to post bail. Instead he simply walked away without a word after a few seconds of deliberation. The eyes of his team turned from where he had stood to look at her, all of them silently burning into her.

She was the first to look away. When she glanced back up, Norman was still out of sight, clinking away in the kitchen.

Sergeant Hawkins felt her gut twist, whether it was because of guilt or something else, she couldn't quite pinpoint. She remained glued to her spot, one hand clinging to the strap of her pack, the other kneading the base of her neck where her headache was growing. Dithering only a moment longer, she finally broke and tiptoed her way toward the couch, unhitching her pack and swinging it to the ground. She followed it down, hands already yanking on the zipper as she sat there on one knee, rifling through her things. She had taken her uniform out as soon as she had gotten to her room, intent on doing laundry that weekend. She found two small green monsters; a sketchbook; a pencil case; a plain spiral notebook; a folder for loose sheets of paper with messy pencil sketches; a sandwich baggy filled with pretzels; an opened water bottle; an unopened Powerade bottle, a new and unopened bottle of Tylenol; her folding knife; a copy of " _The Martian_ " by Andy Weir; her iPod with its charger; a miniature speaker; an extra phone charger; and her Mac laptop and the external hard drive with all her extra files and its charger…

But not her phone. Not her wallet.

Both had been on her nightstand, one charging and the other taken out of her pack to pay for pizza…

Of fucking course. The two most important things and neither of them were on her.

No wonder the detective had grilled her so relentlessly on her identity at the police station. He hadn't done it to catch her in a lie. He had done it because they understandably and literally couldn't identify her, at all.

 _Great. I have no way to call home, no ID to prove who I am, and on top of that…I have no shoes or socks. Not that I can call home or that my ID would do me any good, now that I think about it…_

She glanced back at the single pair of shoes sitting by the front door, amending that she didn't necessary need socks or shoes now, but it had been cold at the police station. It had also been awkward traipsing around, trying not to stub her toes or trying to avoid getting stepped on. Worse still, she hadn't been able to feel her toes at the station either, and here it wasn't much better.

Yet again, she reflected on how the longer the hours ticked by, the less likely she felt she was dreaming. It was strange entertaining the idea that this all might be very real, but mostly, she saw it as inconvenient. She wasn't sure what was going to happen. Would someone from back at her unit, come Monday, attempt to reach her when she failed to show up to work? Would someone come by her room, only to find it empty? Would they mark her as a deserter, disappeared off the grid, out of sight and out of mind? Did time pass differently here than it did back home, or would it pass the same as it was here?

 _Questions, questions, questions. Data, data, data, I cannot make bricks without clay. I cannot make solutions without answers._

She kept thinking about her family and her friends, but realized they wouldn't know she was missing, not until either someone told them or if she didn't answer calls or texts. And she was known for going weeks without doing either. It wasn't out of spite, she simply found it exhausting to talk on the phone and after a full day's worth of work calls, she didn't have it in her to talk to anyone else afterwards. Texts were easier in the long run—but she was simply terrible with being consistent in that department as well.

It all spiraled to just one thing: nobody knew she was missing.

The thought terrified her, and with each passing scenario that rolled around in her head, the sicker she felt to her stomach, and the urge to bust out crying grew more tempting. She had to forcibly control her breathing, to steady her nerves, to dissipate those urges. Even when it felt like her throat was pinching shut, she somehow managed to sip down another breath and quell those urges anew.

 _Focus. Focus on what you know, what you can do, if this is all real. You're in Hoenn. That guy in the other room is a gym leader. He's supposed to help people._

She kept repeating that mantra, but invasive little thoughts that served as devil's advocates kept breaking through.

 _What if this isn't like the cutesy game you like playing? What if this is some dystopian version of the game, where pokémon fight to the death and people die violently at the…various appendages of pokémon and there's guns and anarchy and—_

Sergeant Hawkins clenched her jaw, zipped up her pack, and shook those thoughts away.

 _Suck it the fuck up, buttercup. Stop worrying. You can handle this. Stop bitching and just deal with things as they come. You can do that much, can't you? You made it through the fucking Marines, you can make it through this bullshit. Minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day, Sunday to Sunday.  
_

She knew how to handle a gun. She had to, given her line of work. She knew how to protect herself. She knew how to terrify the ever-living fuck out of men two times her size and three times her weight. She wasn't some fucking lightweight pushover.

She was a _goddamn Marine_.

It was time to start acting like it.

Straightening, Sergeant Hawkins positioned herself on the couch she had awoken on earlier that morning and continued brutally pummeling her insecurities into submission and asserting the need to control what she could. Namely, at the moment, herself.

When Norman returned, she swallowed down the nervousness she felt bubbling up and trying to painfully lodge itself in her chest like a stitch in her side.

"Thanks for the help. I know I sounded like a brat earlier, but…I do mean it. Thank you."

Norman watched her carefully, his expression cool and calm. She noticed his gaze flicker away from her, sweeping over the faces of his team, before they returned to her. He nodded in approval.

"You're welcome. I apologize for the rough treatment earlier today. Dom can be a bit overzealous sometimes."

"Dom?"

"My Vigoroth." He motioned to the white-and-grey pokémon hovering close at his side. The Vigoroth in question gave her a quiet snarl. She resisted the urge to childishly stick her tongue out in return. She was pretty sure she'd lose it if she tried.

"That's fine. I guess I'd do the same thing in your place."

 _Wait a minute…_

"So," Norman started, glancing off back into the kitchen. Sergeant Hawkins felt a prickle of cold crawling up her spine and rest at the base of her neck, with the hairs there standing up at attention. A stupidly belated realization dawned upon her, and she looked away, down at the coffee table, where it lay empty…and dusty. In fact, near everything in the room was dusty or untouched. Even the floors had been covered in a light coat of it, with bits of it clinging to her toes and the soles of her feet. Why was it so dirty in here?

Why were there no pictures or art or signs of anyone else living here?

 _Something isn't right._

"Leftovers aren't an option; everything's cleaned out in the fridge. The frozen meals all have freezer burn, so they aren't viable to eat and I didn't think to go grocery shopping before coming home, so I guess the only question is what kind of takeout you'd like."

 _Where's Norman's wife and kid?_

* * *

The guest bedroom was about as Spartan in decoration as the rest of the household. It was almost reminiscent of what she'd expect of a divorced dad, rather than a family homestead. Have they not moved in just yet? Did Norman move into the house before they did, and they just haven't sent in everything?

 _No. That doesn't feel quite right. There were no photographs around in sight. A loving dad and husband would have pictures of his family somewhere, anywhere. There were boxes in the front room, too. Most of them untouched, unpacked._

Dread coiled up in her gut, heavy as stone and as corrosive as acid. She tasted bile at the back of her throat as the idea of the worst invaded her train of thought.

 _Did they die? Or were they killed?_

As soon as she and Norman had eaten, he showed her the upstairs guest room, told her she was free to use the guest bathroom, or to get more food if she felt hungry. After fetching her some extra blankets for the room, he left her to her own devices.

There was a small flat screen sitting on the dresser, so she turned that on and began flipping through the channels in an attempt to distract herself.

Pokémon, pokémon, and more pokémon. What a surprise.

 _If I went to bed now, would I wake up home?_

She doubted it, but it couldn't hurt to try…right after a nice long hot shower.

Sergeant Hawkins quietly left the guest room and padded down the hallway to the bathroom, pausing at a thin decorative table pressed flush against wall. There was an empty little glass bowl the colour of clear bluebell, but nothing much else. Frowning at the lack of decoration, at how plain it all was, she disappeared into the bathroom, iPod and speaker in hand. Bottles of shampoo, conditioner, a wash cloth, a towel, and a bar of soap were already laid out on the counter for her.

Anticipation thrummed through her and after getting the water turned on and dialed in at the perfect temperature, Sergeant Hawkins stripped and stepped into embrace of the hot water. Inhaling deeply, she felt the heat and steam spread through her, pattering at her backside like the gentle tips of fingers easing away all her tensions and cares in the world and washing them away down the drain.

She wished it were that easy. Her head was swimming with even more questions and even less answers than when she had started her day out. She wanted to give in to the logical end of things, to simply let things be, to take things in stride as they come…but that wasn't the easiest route for her. She was stuck feeling completely and utterly rattled, her nerves frayed, her worries bristling and ready to snap upon any small snag or problem that crossed her path. She was a singular ball of tension, drawn so tight that the slightest tug or pull of pressure would make her snap and break.

She stayed in the water, hoping it would alleviate some of that tension, and for a time it worked. The music eventually lulled her away from the hard-pressed thoughts that plagued her. She lingered for a few minutes longer after she finally stepped out, feeling cleaner than when she had gone in.

Norman had been gracious enough to loan her a pair of sweatpants and plain white t-shirt, although judging from their size, they were hilariously too large for her and quite possibly Norman's. The shirt and pants alike hung on her frame as though she were emaciated, and she had to yank the sweatpants' drawstring taut until it wasn't falling down past her ass and tied it off. She let the shirt be as it was.

The moment she opened the door to the bathroom, with a puff of steam escaping in an instant, it all came back: the stress, the worry, the dread.

Standing guard outside the door was the little Zigzagoon. As soon as the door creaked open and the slant of light fell on its backside, the pokémon turned around, eyes glinting merrily at her. She hadn't been prepared for an impromptu guard standing wait outside for her. She startled, having nearly stepped on the little pokémon. She backpedaled into the bathroom, sucking in a lungful of air and held it to keep from hyperventilating. She's had a long damn day, and this was only adding to the pile, goddammit!

She was even less prepared when the damn thing opened its mouth and began to _fucking talk to her._

"Oh, good! You're out! Any longer and I would have had to get Mister Norman!"

She stared at the Zigzagoon, mouth dropping open, eyes bulging wide, breath caught in her chest in an aching hitch. Unperturbed and unaware of her shock, the pokémon continued, dancing excitedly on the spot on rapid little paws.

"It's so nice to see someone else that isn't a gym challenger or student for a change! Are you staying for long, Miss?"

"I…I, uh…" Anything she had to say was left to die in her throat. Her voice fell silent, her mind going blank.

"Is everything all right, Miss?" The Zigzagoon paused, head tilting, nose wiggling as it—he, it definitely sounded like a he—sniffed the air in her direction. When Sergeant Hawkins was finally able to untangle her tongue, her voice was an octave higher than usual, on the verge of breaking completely, but she managed to squeak out an answer.

"I…I don't know anymore, I think…I think I'm gonna…go lay down now."

"Oh. Oh, well, all right, Miss. Sleep well!"

With that, the Zigzagoon zoomed right down the hall and down the stairs, disappearing from sight. Sergeant Hawkins stared after the bushy-tailed creature, her whirlwind of thoughts having finally come to a grinding, agonizing halt for the first time that day—although it wasn't in the way she had wanted. She moved after some time simply standing there, straining to listen to the sudden clamour of voices below her. Gruff bass tones, a high alto, a pair of sonorous rumbles, the enthusiastic high pitch of the Zigzagoon that was akin to a child's voice. Norman's voice occasionally mixed in with the rest but was largely left silent.

She hurried back down the hallway and sequestered herself away in the guest room, flipping through channels and pausing at segments that featured various pokémon on screen. This time, she found herself focusing a little more on parts that featured the pokémon themselves, and more importantly, if they too spoke like people.

A contest Pikachu was dressed in pink frills and delicate lace was waving at a crowd, yelling her thanks to her adoring fans while her trainer stood beside her, crowing much the same.

 _Next._

A flock of Wingull were griping about the swarm of Tentacool moving in on their favourite fishing spot. A disembodied voice, the narrator, coolly reflects the patience of the Wingull as they sit on the beach as the sun rose over the horizon.

 _Next._

A Nidorino and a Gengar bash into one another as stadium lights glare down on them both. The Gengar taunts the Nidorino with a vexing grin. The Nidorino blusters out a snort, snapping at the Gengar to shut up and fight. The announcer, much like the last program, seemed oblivious to the conversation passing between the battling pokémon.

Next, next, _next_.

More questions arose as Sergeant Hawkins spent the next hour flipping desperately through channels. Did anyone else hear the pokémon speaking at all, or were they ignorant of the words the pokémon spoke? She finally had to shut the television off, her head near to bursting as her headache returned in full force. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling pressure building up behind them as she began rubbing at her temples and the base of her neck, but to no avail. She finally caved and fished out the Tylenol from her pack and downed two pills, wincing as one pill went down sideways.

With that said and done, Sergeant Hawkins quickly turned in for the night, hoping that she was simply imagining all these voices. After some time, however, before she fell asleep, she wondered if that truly was something she wanted and if that was the better alternative to her actually being able to understand pokémon.

* * *

 _ **Note**_ **: I have a confession to make. I sometimes repeat words in my sentences (simple words such as 'please' or 'again'). It's a mistake that I'm sure you'll eventually notice. I am trying my hardest to correct myself. I've gotten much better at not doing it, but I slip from time to time, and don't even realize I do it while writing, not until I go back and read through everything. If you notice it, please feel free to let me know. Chances are, I might have missed it on my initial round of editing.**

 **Also, as a generous heads-up, I am going to try to do a once-a-week update to this story, although it is tentative, since I have a fully loaded schedule this semester. Here's to all the fiction writing, video game development, and animation history I'm gonna be learning!**

 **Thank you again for reading!**

 **And now a new term!**

 _ **Green Monster**_ **: These are bright green, hardcover notebooks that I have generally only ever seen in Marine Corps Exchange stores. Equivalent products are probably sold on other military branch installations, but I haven't had much experience shopping through them. These notebooks can come in a variety of sizes but they all share the same name of "green monster". It's just a matter of specifying their size when ordering and purchasing them via online.**


	3. Chapter Two: Another Fine Mess

**Chapter Two:  
Another Fine Mess**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes:_ I noticed a lack of interaction in the review box! Not upset, just something I noticed. If I have offended anyone with my pleas from last chapter's notes, it wasn't my intent to offend or call out any one individual. It was merely a request that I'd appreciate keeping things civil. I hope that this wasn't too much of a request. **

**Anyway, enough of my blathering! I hope last chapter was read, and that you enjoy this one! Here is where the seedlings of the plot begins to trickle in.  
**

* * *

" _You're not making sense, man!"  
"Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense. You're just not keeping up."  
_ **-Tony Mack and The Doctor, "** ** _Doctor Who_** **"**

* * *

"Norman! So good of you to finally make it!"

The Petalburg gym leader nodded toward his colleague, Wattson of Mauville City, offering a thin smile toward the jovial older man.

"Sorry I'm late. I was held up."

"With what, another pupil? Lord knows you've taken on more than your fair share of 'em lately!" Wattson laughed, but it was short and quick. Before long, it faded just as quick as it'd come, and a fleeting air of seriousness enveloped the other man. "How has everything been lately? How're you holding up?"

Norman closed his eyes, face schooled into patient serenity, even if he was being battered relentlessly by internal chaos. He had just taken in a strange woman into his home, right after he had just had her arrested the other morning. She was tight-lipped on how or why she had been there, but he's learned over the years to trust his gut. And it was telling him that the strange happenings in the world recently had something to do with her sudden appearance. Perhaps, he corrected himself, not her specifically—she had a bit of a mouth on her, but other than that, she didn't appear to be anything entirely special or unique—but with the sudden and unexplained…strangeness that seemed to envelop her. Even if she herself wasn't aware of the aura she seemed to put out, he could feel it, just barely, rolling across him in waves. He hasn't decided if it was good or not yet but keeping her close at hand may prove fruitful.

"I've been fine, Wattson. I promise." Before Wattson could shoot off another question, Norman changed the subject. "Am I the only one late or are we waiting for someone else?"

Wattson sobered at the inquiry and nodded toward the doors that lay beyond. "Most everyone's here, except for Wallace and Roxanne. And, of course, in typical fashion—"

"—we're also waiting on Steven." Norman felt a more relaxed smile tug at his lips. "Of course."

Wattson belted out another laugh, clapping Norman heartily on the shoulder that very nearly knocked him over. He recovered before the older gent noticed.

"Let's get inside, m'boy, afore any of the others gets here and tries to rub it in both our faces!"

The two gym leaders made for the door and threw them open to reveal the glossy conference table within, ringed by chairs both occupied and empty. Just as Wattson had reported, most of everyone else were already there, lounging in their assigned seats. Flannery, their newest gym leader member, hopped up to her feet upon seeing Wattson and rounded the table to tackle him into a hug. Wattson took it in good grace, laughter booming out of him like cannon fire as he returned the young woman's embrace enthusiastically.

"There's our new girl! How're ya holding the position, kiddo?"

"Great, thanks! I mean, I'm still trying to find my feet in all this mess, but hey, I think I'm getting better!"

"That-a girl, that's the spirit! Don't let anyone drain your batteries!"

"You mean don't let them put out my fire, right?" Flannery teased back, sharing a loud laugh with Wattson. Norman left the two to catch up and took up his seat, nestled between Flannery's and Winona's. The other woman shifted in her seat and took him in with a calm look and a serene smile. She reached up to tuck a stray lavender lock back behind her ear.

"Norman. It's good to see you. How have you been? It's been a while," she asked, her voice airy and quiet.

As Norman chatted with the others and caught up with them all, Wallace and Roxanne eventually came to join them. Soon, the only one they were waiting upon was Steven. They didn't have long to wait for the Hoenn Champion to make his appearance, and when he arrived, everyone fell silent. They followed him with their eyes, silent as the grave, as Steven took his seat at the head of the conference table. The young man waited a moment longer, nodding to them all in recognition before he began.

"Thank you all again for coming. I apologize for the inconvenience I may have imposed with your schedules, but as I'm sure you're well aware, we're in dire straits at the moment." With practiced ease, he plucked up a lone remote settled at his seat. With a click of several buttons, the back panel of the room behind him slid away to reveal a large screen imbedded in the wall. It winked to life, immediately showcasing a newsfeed, with the logo for Sinnoh Region News. The woman, with her platinum blonde hair smartly pinned in a bun, her blue blazer prim and clean, gazed boldly with clear hazel-green eyes into the camera unflinchingly as a smaller window feed was pinned to the corner of the screen.

"—reports of the Creation Trio's appearances across Sinnoh are beginning to emerge more frequently. We have confirmed with several scientists across the region that readings of dimensional rifts are appearing across the region, in conjunction with the disappearances of citizens—"

In the pinned window of a looping video beside her, was a feed of the renegade pokémon, Giratina, sliding into an amorphous dimensional rift, like an Ekans slithering into a Rattata burrowing hole. The rift slid shut as its tail disappeared into it. The loop lasted only several seconds and kept replaying a few times. It switched to show a brief flash of Dialga rocketing skyward into an overcast sky. Hot on its tail was Palkia, charging up to blast off a Hyper Beam attack at its fleeing quarry.

Steven allowed the newsfeed to play a minute longer, then muted it, and swiveled back around in his seat to face the rest of the Hoenn League and gym leader members.

"Sinnoh has been trying to keep this hush-hush for a while, but their attempts have obviously failed. With more eyewitnesses observing these legendary pokémon, it's been nearly impossible to keep the lid on things for long. Especially when its citizens are recording these events as they happen across the region, it wasn't long before the world over began to notice things as well."

"Damn internet junkies," Wattson griped, although there was no malice in his tone. Instead, there was a deflated acceptance dripping from his words and it wasn't long before he allowed a reluctant grin twitch his lips upwards.

"And what exactly does that have to do with us here in Hoenn?" Drake, the last member of the League quartet, remarked pointedly, ignoring Wattson's remark. There were a few nods of agreement from some of the gym leaders, but Norman remained silent, waiting for Steven to continue.

"Those dimensional rift readings those scientists have been studying? They've spread beyond the scope of Sinnoh's borders. They've begun to appear elsewhere. People going missing. People appearing out of nowhere. It's impossible to say if any pokémon have done the same, as we don't keep a strict census on all wild populations, but I wouldn't put it off the table if some have gone missing as well, especially trainer-registered pokémon alongside their trainers."

Norman sat up a little straighter at this block of information passed along to them. As low murmurs were shot around the table, Norman couldn't help but focus on Steven's admission: people were, in fact, going missing. People were appearing, seemingly out of nowhere. His thoughts immediately flew to the young woman staying at his house.

He had heard the rumours, of course, but at the time, they had only been just that: rumours. Small and inconsequential, he hadn't devoted any time to chasing or confirming them, and with his work in Petalburg, his focus had been on the community, not the world. When Shay had arrived under mysterious circumstances, Norman had been ready to move on after the police had taken her away to their station, to wipe his hands of the mess and go home to rest.

But it was by Steven's orders that he get her released and take her in, despite his reluctance in doing so. Now he had his suspicions as to why Steven had him do so in the first place.

As though he had read his mind, Steven turned his steel-coloured gaze on Norman, smiling wanly.

"As a matter of fact, I believe we may have a location on one such Appeared person. Norman? Would you care to relate your encounter?"

Damn. Right on the spotlight. He should have seen this coming. Eyes trained themselves on him and Norman shifted in his seat. He cleared his throat and nodded, but not before throwing a disapproving frown Steven's way.

"A woman appeared in my home. I'm not sure how long she was there, but she claims to not have any memory to how she got there. My home was secured with no signs of a break-in, and even if there had been a break-in, I have a security system in place for extra measure. She had no identification on her, and when the police ran prints and photos on her, she wasn't in any Trainer Registration Database, nor was she listed in any criminal databases, local or international." He paused, taking his time to collect his thoughts before continuing. "When Steven called me yesterday morning to check-in on things with my gym and I related the incident to him, he had me return to the station to have the woman released into my custody. That's as much as I know at this time, but she was still back at my place as of this morning."

He hoped she was still there when he returned.

"If I had known that this was to be today's topic of our meeting, I would have brought her along with me."

"Shame you didn't, but I hadn't thought of that myself, if I'm being honest. I apologize on that matter. Thank you, Norman." Steven stated with a cool nod in Norman's direction. The Petalburg gym leader canted his head back in return. "As far as how many others have gone missing, and those that have Appeared…we're still working on that. It's going to be difficult to differentiate normal disappearances versus these unnatural ones, and as to where they're coming from, we don't have enough information on that matter either, but I'm sure we will soon enough."

"So, what's the plan? We just gonna barrel on over to Sinnoh and try to blast those pokémon out of the sky, be done with it?" Sidney piped up, earning him a look of ire from several other members. Glacia especially was giving him a cold gaze, her lips pursed tightly together into a thin line. "I mean, I'm all for it, no question about it, but…those things are gods, and last time I checked, they were also supposed to be legends. You know, the stuff of myths, bedtime stories, all that jazz."

"That is actually the second topic of this meeting. I was out of the region, as you well know, and while it was partly to continue my research on Mega Evolution, I was waylaid by this growing situation in Sinnoh. I met with the League Champion there, Cynthia, to discuss options on their predicament."

"And what conclusion did you both reach, if any?" Winona piped up beside Norman, her voice still airy as always, but with a steel edge of seriousness coating her words.

"Well, it was more than Cynthia I met with, if I'm being honest," Steven admitted. "I wasn't the only League Champion with her. Red, the current Kanto-Johto Champion, actually came out of training to come meet with us, alongside the temporary place-holding Champion, Lance. Unfortunately, Hilda from Unova, wasn't available, so her predecessor, Alder, came in her stead."

"What about the Region Professors?"

Steven shook his head. "They have their hands full enough as it is, but they are accepting of any research components and data analyzations they can on the matter. I'll be meeting with Professor Birch later on to discuss the subject, see what he can offer. As for where we stand on the situation in Sinnoh…" Steven sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. It was the first sign of exhaustion Norman's seen in Steven in a long while. It was startling, to say the least. He was normally a very well put-together young man who rarely offered any sign of weakness.

Such was the fate of a Champion.

"As for what conclusion we reached, is that we can't offer much in the way of help,. It's not just the Creation Trio they're worrying over, it's the terrorist organization that released them all in the first place, Team Galactic. Currently, they have some handle on it, as they're trying to reverse whatever they have done, and that brings me to the next subject. As I'm sure you all know, we have had run-ins with our own terrorist organizations: Team Aqua and Team Magma."

"You mean those costumed nut jobs that have been running around lately? I thought they were just cosplay enthusiasts." Flannery interjected. A few people uttered their own concurrence on the matter, saying they too have noticed a rise in the costumed individuals. Steven waited for their chatter to die down before he continued onwards.

"Yes, I do mean those people. We aren't sure what Team Aqua's goals are, exactly, as they haven't released any statements beyond their desire to "expand the sea". As far as I can tell, Team Magma are opposing Team Aqua, but what their goals are from one another, they also haven't released a definitive statement, or what their operation size is like. They weren't much trouble when they registered themselves as nature preservationist and conservationist groups, but there's been an increase in reports issued against them. Petty thievery such as attempts at stealing trainer registered pokémon after battles, things of this nature. I've already alerted authorities across the region to be on high alert for these people, but I also expect you to do so as well. It's partly why I had to pull out of offering full support in assisting Champion Cynthia and Sinnoh."

"Has anyone heard from Alola at this time? Or any of the other island regions, for that matter?" Wallace suddenly inquired. Steven glanced at the Sootopolis gym leader, surprise colouring his features momentarily. He shook his head.

"Not at this time, no. Alola doesn't have a proper League as of yet, but from what I've heard, Professor Kukui has put forth a proposal for one. As far as the other nations such as the Sevii Islands, I've reached out, but haven't heard back as of this moment. I will continue to reach out, and have Professor Birch do so as well, see if their islands have experienced any strangeness that we have."

With that all said, Steven began to wrap up the conversation of the meeting, fielding questions for the next ten minutes. All the while, Norman mulled over the information that had just been given to them all. It was some time before he too pushed a piece of inquiry Steven's way.

"What, exactly, do we do with those that have appeared here? What am I to do with the woman at my house?"

That gave Steven, along with most everyone around him, pause. It grew quiet, but Norman could see the sudden flash of the same question rolling around on their faces as well. What _were_ they supposed to do for these Appeared people? Steven took his time in answering, letting the silence roll over them in waves.

"We can't just…leave them alone, can we? We can't ignore them." Roxanne said when the crushing silence became too much. With the hush broken, there was a series of quietly muttered concurrence from the others, nods and agreement all around. Steven stared over each of them, studying them carefully. He turned back to Norman, and when he began to answer, the rest fell quiet.

"For the woman at your house, I would suggest giving her something to do, so that she doesn't feel quite so lost. Perhaps give her a job at your gym, or somewhere else, if she prefers. Let her ease in on things, but don't overwhelm her on the matter. I would suggest much the same for anyone else any of you find from this point on."

The conversation began to wrap up from there, dwindling down to nitpicky or broad subjects that Steven had to defer to a later date when more information was available. When he finally had them all released from the meeting, it was nearly noon. Norman made a pit stop in the front lobby, watching as the others either lingered around or they immediately took off back to their gyms as he pulled out his phone to place a call. The line rang a couple times before, to his relief, Professor Birch picked up.

He sounded, as usual, out of breath and excited when his voice came up on the other line.

" _Norman, ya old coot, how ya been!_ "

"Fine, Professor Birch. And you?"

" _Good, good! Not too bad myself._ "

"How's Brenden doing?" Norman pressed, deciding to catch up on pleasantries first. Birch laughed. It was almost as hearty-sounding as Wattson's.

" _Ah, the kid's a chip off the old block, taking after his old man, if I do say so myself! Assisting me in my research, helping out at the lab—kid's prime material to go into the same line of work as me._ "

Norman found his smile to be bitter at the sound of that news, and it felt it eat away, bit by bit, at his heart. He internally scolded himself when he caught it doing so.

 _It's not his fault,_ Norman told himself. _Not his fault his child is able to follow in his footsteps and yours…_

Norman shook the thoughts from his mind, pushing himself back on track.

"That sounds fantastic, I'm glad to hear it," he said. With niceties aside, now he could move on to the heart of the matter. "Listen, the reason I'm calling is…well, it's big, Birch. Are you at your lab, by any chance?"

" _Um, yeah, I am. Steven caught me right before I was about to go out into the field, asked if I could hold off on any outdoor research for the day. He wanted to see me in-person. Why?_ "

"I had hoped to talk to you in-person myself. Do you know when he'll be out of your hair?"

" _Sometime in the afternoon. I'll give you a call when I'm free. You gonna be swinging by back home or going to your gym?_ "

"I'll be home," Norman confirmed.

"Sounds good, I'll call you there, then."

"Thanks, Birch. I'll see you later."

"Not a problem. And hey, Norman? Take care of yourself. Seriously."

With that said, the line went dead, and Norman, with nothing else left to do, pocketed his phone and headed to the Teleport Lab, where only gym leaders and League members had access to it. In fact, only they knew about its existence. The technician on duty was looking rather bored as they stared at their computer screen, but as soon as Norman popped in, they shot to their feet, looking embarrassed at being caught slacking off.

"Oh, shit—Mister Norman, I—"

"Save it. So long as you weren't looking up porn, I don't care what you do with your work hours. That's not my job." Norman stated bluntly, to which the young man's face coloured up nice and pink.

"Uh, r-right. Sorry. Um, didja need a transport, sir?"

"Yes. Back to Littleroot."

"Anywhere specific?"

"My home." Norman relayed the coordinates, the technician nodded and with a small amount of fumbling, he fished out a pokéball, tossing it. Spilling from light and energy, the form of a Kirlia arose. The Kirlia glanced between its trainer and Norman.

"Hey, Crissie, time to go to work." The technician all but cooed, offering the coordinates to Norman's home to the emotion pokémon. Crissie nodded, unperturbed, and turned to Norman, holding out a hand to him. He gently reached out and clasped the pokémon's hand in his own. It took seconds for the Kirlia's teleport technique to bring him from the League in Ever Grande City to his home in Littleroot. He stared up at his house, looking pleased, and turned to the Kirlia for thanks. Crissie curtsied in acknowledgment, then in a wink was gone, just like that.

Norman pressed on, making his way into the house.

The woman was still there, much to his surprise. He had almost been expecting her to have run off, perhaps even nicked a few things to fence at some seedy little pawn shop elsewhere. But no, no. She was there, relaxing on the couch with his Zigzagoon, Bandit, snoozing in her lap and a pokémon documentary on city-dwelling pokémon in places such as Grimer in Celadon of Kanto or Trubbish moving in Castelia City over in Unova. She hadn't seemed to notice him quite yet, her focus was so intent on the television.

A frown and furrow of the brow adorned her features as the narrator went on.

"They're talking about how hungry they are, they're not just 'lazing around'. What is this guy talking about?" She mumbled low to herself, her frown still firmly in place. It was there Norman cleared his throat, announcing his presence more fully, and she jumped up, startled. Bandit went tumbling to the ground with a surprised yelp, and she hurriedly bent down to pick him up, murmuring apologies. When she straightened, she was like a Deerling in headlights, frozen and wide-eyed, and perhaps looking a smidgeon guilty, like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have.

"I see you've finally decided to take some liberties in my absence." He remarked dryly. Her eyes flickered to the television, the narrator still drawling on. She reached down to swipe up the remote and jabbed at the power button and the video blanked out of existence. Silence hung between them like the dust motes that have collected in his home for the last few weeks.

"Sorry."

"No, no. Please, by all means. Enjoy what you can."

She eyed him, her brow furrowing into that intense concentration again, guarded and drawn tight as a bowstring, like she was just waiting for him to spring a trap upon her. She was suspicious and he supposed he couldn't fault her for being as such. The last thirty-six hours has been a whirlwind for her as much as it has been for him. Norman watched her, feeling the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. Before she could figure out what he meant by that, he motioned for her to follow him.

"C'mon. We're taking you shopping."

"I…wait, what?"

"You have one pair of clothes, no shoes, no socks. I'm going to hazard a guess you won't enjoy that for much longer, especially when you need to do laundry. I have no clothes that'll fit you in the interim either." He saw her cheeks flush, suddenly reminded of the clothing she had borrowed for the night. They really were much too big for her, and he had nothing else to offer her. Hesitantly, she stood there for longer than he would have liked, and he sighed, glancing over at her from his shoulder. "I also need to go grocery shopping. I'm sure you noticed the lack of food everywhere."

"Yeah…I did," she replied. "Why is that?"

"I'm rarely ever home and it didn't make much sense to have food rotting in the fridge and cupboards for weeks on end when I get all my food elsewhere."

"Your job keeps you away for that long?"

"It's the kind of job that requires me to be available to the public at all times, as often as possible. I don't like being kept away for long." She began to follow him. Satisfied, he whipped out his phone and pressed on an app, quickly dialing in commands through the prompt screens, and then replaced it in his pocket as they reached the front door. Before he led them out, he recalled Bandit into his pokéball. As soon as the Zigzagoon was nestled safely within, he returned the pokéball onto his belt.

"What about your family?"

There was something subdued about her tone, like she had an inkling of an idea of his situation but wanted to confirm her suspicions by hearing it from him. Norman felt his tongue turn numb and thick inside his mouth, unwilling to cooperate. At last, he managed to untangle it all and answered her as he locked up the house after she stepped outside.

"I don't have one." A beat. "Not anymore."

"Oh." She was quick to put two and two together and was quiet for a moment longer than usual. Then, "I'm sorry."

"It happened years ago."

"How? If you don't mind my asking, that is."

"Plane crash. Mechanical failures that were overlooked. My wife and…and my daughter…" Norman trailed off, mostly due to the painful lump growing in his throat. Even years after the fact, it still hurt. It was still a gaping, open wound that he had hoped would have scabbed over and healed with the passage of time, but every inquiry or mention of his lost family reopened it all over again. "They didn't survive the crash. No one did."

"I'm sorry," the woman said again, sounding genuinely heartfelt in her response.

"Like I said before…it happened years ago."

Yet it still felt fresh in his mind. There were times when he swore he could still smell his wife's perfume even when the room was completely empty save himself or he could hear his daughter's laughter pealing from down the hall, even when her room hasn't ever even been occupied by her. There were only the ghosts of his family left, little reminders that he never got to enjoy in this new home with his wife, his daughter. They had bought the house unseen, and he had been the first to fly out, half of their possessions coming halfway across the world with him as he settled into his newly appointed gym leader position. The rest of their things had shipped to the house, a week after the crash, just before the funeral.

They were supposed to have come together, and yet…

And yet, that all crumbled apart before it even began.

Even after all these years, he hasn't quite had the heart to unpack of the boxes his wife and daughter had packed together. His job was the only thing that he could now focus on. If he didn't come crawling back to a home he was supposed to share with a family that no longer was alive, he didn't have long to linger on his grief.

It had worked so far.

They stepped outside into the crisp sunlight of the noonday sun. Norman enjoyed the breeze coming in, felt it ruffling his hair. It was refreshing, with the faint scent of the last of spring's flowers trailing in the breeze. He motioned for them to wait just outside the front gate. She raised a brow but said nothing on the matter. For several minutes, they waited in almost companionable silence. She, enjoying the quiet and quaint sights of the rural neighborhood Littleroot had to offer, and he mulled over how to broach the subject of her true origins.

"She would have been almost your age by now. My daughter May, I mean." A beat. "She would have been going out in the world by now, perhaps on a pokémon journey to challenge the Ever Grande Conference. Or whatever her heart may have desired, really."

That seemed to throw her for a loop. He himself hadn't really expected himself to continue on the subject of his late daughter. But that didn't make his statement any less true. Or so he liked to believe.

"How old do you _think_ I am?"

"About eighteen, I'd say." he answered honestly, gazing down at her. Her face contorted in shocked amusement, her lips twisting into a thin and wry smile.

"I'm _twenty-seven_. You're about ten years off the mark, bucko."

"Oh. Well, I suppose that's a compliment to you, then."

"If you say so." She didn't sound entirely convinced. The silence between them was palpable but endurable, and they only had to wait a few minutes. A cab pulled up on the curb and Norman motioned for her to get in. As she settled in the back seat beside him and the cab pulled away, she glanced over at him from the corner of her eye and asked, "So…where are we going, now?"

"Petalburg City. Oldale Town doesn't have much in the way of good shopping. It's mostly a pit stop town for aspiring trainers from Littleroot or Petalburg. They have basic supplies for trainers, but anything else, everyone goes to Petalburg. It'll be about an hour before we get there."

"Right."

That seemed to satisfy her for the time being. Another spell of silence filled the space between them, filled only by the faint and tinny music from the cab driver's radio. Norman filled much of his time fielding emails from work, returning a few calls, and setting up orders for his personnel at the gym to follow in the lieu of his absence.

Ten minutes before they even made it into Petalburg, he was tagged in a group email alongside the rest of the gym leaders and League members from Wallace, exclaiming he might have found "an Appeared" right smack dab in the middle of the ocean, floating on a piece of driftwood. He had intercepted the poor soul on his way back home to Sootopolis and was now attempting to get the full story of things, and that he'd fill everyone in on the matter when he had more information.

Norman leaned back in his seat after closing out the email, pocketing his phone.

 _And so it begins,_ he thought with a light grimace crossing his features. It was going to be easier to find the Appeared than it was to find the missing at this rate.

* * *

Norman's attention was torn between the young woman pushing a cart full of groceries down the brightly lit lane and the name emblazoned upon his phone's screen. He finally pressed the call button and brought it to his ear, following after his ward while it rang. The last few aisles for groceries were coming to a final end, but he shooed the woman away when she stopped to look back at him. She quickly got the message and leaned on the handlebar, pushing forward and allowing him to talk with some privacy

Clad in a pair of new jeans, a dark grey tank-top emblazoned with a Zoroark gazing mischievously at the world, another plaid button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, and a pair of a steel-toed hiking boots, she looked far better off than when she had walking into the clothing store earlier in the day. In all honesty, the clerk had looked offended at the rumpled clothes and no socks or shoes that she had walked in with.

The line rang several times as he slowed his pace until the telltale click of the call connecting sounded off. There was a burst of muffled chatter for a split second before Birch's robust voice boomed a greeting on the other end.

"Afternoon, Birch," Norman responded. "Everything well?"

" _Oh, hey Norman! I wasn't expecting you to call again. Are you on your way over?"_ There was an anxious tightness in the other man's voice, although he was trying admirably to hide it behind a jovial tone.

"About that…" Norman replied with a faintly embarrassed laugh. He eyed the woman from the corner of his eye as she opened a refrigerator door. The door fogged up as soon as it met the slightly warmer air of the store, and he moved in closer to see her picking up a gallon of Mama MooMoo's Milk. It was emblazoned with a cutesy Miltank on the label and she deposited it in the cart. She was also fairly quick to toss in a bottle of coffee creamer in, right alongside the box of dark roast coffee grounds from several aisles ago. She was a caffeine hound, it seemed. "I might have to take a raincheck on that meeting. But judging from your voice…I assume you've wrapped things up with Steven. What do you think?"

" _Jeez…where do I start? I don't even know, honestly. This is big, Norman._ Huge _._ "

"I know. And there's a reason I wanted to talk to you, although again, I won't be able to make it in person. The subject I wanted to discuss, however, is related, in a way, to what Steven's told you."

" _What is it,_ " Birch sighed, apprehension and expectancy rolled into one. " _Please don't tell me it's some crazy mission to go to Sinnoh to study these crazy gods._ "

"Nothing like that. You know I wouldn't do that to you."

" _Oh. Well, good. Not like I wanted to go, anyways._ "

Norman huffed a discreet laugh. Birch was fibbing; he was just as curious as anyone else with a predilection towards furthering their understanding of the world of pokémon and the Creation Trio weren't excluded from that list. He'd bet his gym status that Birch was itching to go study them, just like any regional professor. Instead of pointing all that out, Norman decided to press on with the conversation.

"I'm sure by now you've heard I had a break-in at my house."

" _Oh, yeah. I actually meant to ask you about that. What happened? Nothing was taken, I hope?_ "

"It wasn't a break-in."

There was silence on the other end. " _I'm not following._ "

"The woman I found in my house hadn't broken in."

Norman waited for that to sink in. It took Birch a few seconds to realize the implications of his words before there was a shout on the other end, a moment of eureka striking the other man.

" _ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!_ "

Norman politely covered the speaker of his phone, offering a thin smile to an elderly woman with a Delcatty at her side passing him in the aisle. She shuffled off, casting a nasty glare over her shoulder at him before disappearing into the frozen foods section. The Delcatty, much like its trainer, lifted its nose up into the air, walking with a haughtiness in its graceful steps. Lowering his voice, he continued on.

"No, Birch. I'm not. The woman I found at my house was one of the Appeared."

" _Holy—you're screwing with me here, aren't you? There's—there's already someone here?_ Here _? In Littleroot?_ "

"Well, at the moment, I'm shopping for groceries with her in Petalburg."

" _You went to Petalburg?_ With _her?_ "

"I did, yes. I have no food at my house and she didn't have any spare clothes beyond those on her back. It's not like she packed for the occasion of dimension-hopping."

" _I guess…but you're serious? She's not from…here?_ " Birch queried, the initial shock that had soaked his voice beginning to leech away in lieu of curiousity, fascination.

"I would hazard a guess that she isn't. She acts like she's never seen a live pokémon in her life, and perhaps where she's from…pokémon don't exist."

" _I can't imagine that. I honestly can't._ "

"I know you can't, old friend," Norman chuckled. "And I'm not the only one. Wallace found another on his way back to Sootopolis earlier today after our meeting with Steven. He'll send us further details as they unfold."

Birch muttered another series of words that sounded muffled, like he'd taken the receiver well away from his face. When he came back, he asked what Norman was going to do with her.

"I'm setting her up at my place, but I doubt she's going to be content doing nothing all day, except watching television or puttering around an empty house. Do you…do you think you could find something for her to do with you? At the lab? Anything to keep her busy."

" _Whoa, that's…_ " Birch laughed, nervous and uneasy. " _I wasn't expecting to be blindsided twice in one day. First Steven's news and now this…? I don't…I don't know, man._ "

Norman rounded the corner of the aisle, spotting the young woman looking over labels behind the fridge doors, but craned her neck to gape openly at a well-built man paired with a Machamp behind him making their way down the refrigerated aisle. The man smiled and winked at her, but Norman couldn't see her expression as she turned. She went back to pushing the cart towards the other end, ignoring the perturbed expression on the Machamp's trainer. She paused long enough to grab a tub of ice cream before moving on.

"C'mon, Birch. I can already tell, she's not an idle person. I don't want her to get into any sort of trouble and keeping her occupied with something is better than letting her get…creative."

Something about her just screamed 'trouble' if left to her own devices. Maybe not dangerous, but there was definitely something mischievous about her that trouble was a label he'd put on her, if given half a chance.

Birch hummed on the other line, dithering at an answer before he expelled a heavy and loud exhalation.

" _Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Fine. Yes, I'll see what I can do. I mean, I've already got my bases covered with my assistants and Brenden helping me out. Have her come by here tomorrow morning around eight. I dunno what I could have her do, besides maybe cleaning…but I'll see what I can scrounge up._ "

A pressure in Norman's chest seemed to deflate at the news. He expelled a long, quiet sigh of his own as he nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

" _Yeah, yeah, yeah. You owe me big time. And I mean_ big _._ "

"That I do. Maybe we'll go out one of these days. My treat."

" _Sounds good, man. Listen, I gotta get back at things here in the lab, but we'll talk later._ "

"Right. Thanks again."

When the connection ended, Norman was quick to plunge down into the grocery lanes, in search of the woman when an odd thought struck him: he didn't even know her name. He hadn't bothered to ask, hadn't even thought about it. He was also still trying to work out a way to broach the subject of what he knew about her. What if she tried to play dumb and deny all claims that she wasn't from here? Well, there wasn't much she could have learned, not with only a single morning's worth of watching television. She didn't know the regions of this world, the nuances of each region's cultures and customs. She had the obvious look of a Magikarp out of water whenever he caught her looking intently at something so mundane to him, it was almost like she was either enchanted…or trying to puzzle out an equation. He couldn't quite tell sometimes; she was guarded and smart enough to keep her trap shut.

At that, he found himself less obligated to worry for her. Steven wanted them to keep this issue under wraps for as long as they could, or at least until they could figure out a solution to this mess. If she figured out much the same on her end, perhaps she'd be just fine in this world for a short while longer after all.

He caught up with the woman and he paid for the groceries after they rang everything up at the register. A Machop donning a grocery smock was helping bag everything, but as soon as Norman had finished at the register, the woman started helping the pokémon, and thanked the little fighting-type as they left. The Machop offered a hearty smile to her for her assistance.

Outside, the cab was still parked in the lot, right where they had left it, and they loaded everything into the taxi cab's trunk. There were undeniably good perks with being a gym leader—he could buy the services of a cab driver for a day without complaints. The sun was beginning to dip low in the sky as they hit the road and Petalburg was slipping away from them.

The music from the radio was playing softly and it sounded to Norman like an old song he hasn't heard since he was a teenager. The singer was crooning away, something about the love between a Meowth and a Houndour, and how different yet similar they were, down to their cores.

"You know," he started, breaking the relative silence that stood between himself and the woman. "I don't think I ever introduced myself."

"You're Norman Radliff. Petalburg City's gym leader. You specialize in normal-type pokémon."

He froze, startled. The woman was looking out the window, watching as the scenery passed them by. Even with the rays of the setting afternoon sun, it suddenly felt ice cold in the cab's backseat.

"There was a documentary with interviews on the Hoenn gym leaders earlier today before you got back. You're the fifth challenge in line to the Ever Grande Conference."

Norman felt tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding onto melt away. Of course. She'd been watching television while he was away. When she mentioned the interviews, he could recall with damning clarity when the last interview he's done had been: before his family was set to move out here to Hoenn. He had been brighter-eyed and more optimistic back then. Looking back on things, he wondered where that man had gone.

"That seems a bit unfair," he stated bluntly, shaking the thoughts from his head. "You know who I am, but I have no clue what to call you. I'd feel pretty awkward calling you 'girl' or 'lady'. Seems a bit derivative, if you ask me."

"Um…just…just call me Shay…Kenway."

"Shay Kenway?"

"Yep."

"All right. Shay it is."

Norman felt slightly better at now knowing a little more information to go off of with. The quiet persisted aside from the sound of music and the car's motor, leaving them in a more comfortable atmosphere with one another. It lasted for all of thirty minutes before Shay spoke again.

"Um…hey, Norman?"

Norman stirred at the sound of his name. He'd dozed off. He blinked several times and shifted in his seat. It'd been a long day. He turned to Shay, noticed the guarded way she stared at him.

"Yes?"

The guarded expression lasted for just a smidgeon longer. It fell away when she smiled, the first he's seen that's been genuine.

"Thanks. For all the help, I mean."

He considered her before returning the smile, despite how tired he felt, and they still had miles to go before there was time to rest. But in this moment, it was nice to sit back and relax. He can't remember the last time he's done something as simple, as relaxing, as this in a long, long time.

"You're welcome."

* * *

 ** _Notes:_ There really isn't a last name for Norman, or his family, as far as I could find, so I chose one for the sake of the story. It's not overtly importantly, just some filler. 'Radliff' was the name I went with, as it seemed to be a lesser known surname.  
**

 **On another, unrelated note, Bandit is the name of one of my (many) cats, who is overly friendly, curious, and lovey-dovey with just about everyone. That cat doesn't know the meaning of hate, in all honesty.**

 **On a secondary note, I figured that Zigzagoon are pretty popular for several reasons: easy to train, good tempered around children, helpful in stressful situations for individuals that need an easy-going pokémon to help destress them, and perfect in easing young trainers into pokémon battling, training, and the like. Having one around at all times, except in gym-mandated battles, is advantageous in a highly public position in the city community.**

 **But this is simply my own interpretation. If you have others, leave it in the review box and let me know what you think!**


	4. Chapter Three: Change

**Chapter Three:  
Change**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 **Notes: Hello to all the new readers who favourited this story! Welcome, and I hope that you're enjoying yourselves. I know none of you commented on anything, but I'd love to hear from you guys! Please don't be shy and feel free to leave a comment or constructive critique in the review box!  
**

* * *

" _Change is the one reality that we can count on. Trying to hang on to our expectation, that is death."_  
 **-Jessica Warren, "** _ **Bones**_ **"**

* * *

There was hardly a complaint from Shay when Norman went in to wake her up at seven in the morning the next day. She uttered a few nonverbal groans, and a grumbled request for coffee. Aside from all that, she was more or less amicable enough to get dressed and was downstairs mere minutes after he himself got there. The coffee hadn't even finished brewing before she seated herself down at the breakfast nook. He bid her a good morning, and she said much the same, and then said it to his team as well.

He was pleased at that, and then surprised at his own approval.

Bandit made a beeline for her, all but leaping into her lap. She took it in stride, digging her fingers into his fuzzy cheeks with vigor. The Zigzagoon seemed taken with her, and she with him. He decided that, too, was a good thing. He would have had a harder time if she, indeed, didn't have pokémon where she was from and was more disturbed by them than enchanted as she was. Norman was still trying to figure out how to broach the subject about that with her.

He couldn't just barrel on through without grace on the matter. It'd be as disastrous as a Tauros in a china shop if he didn't navigate the conversation with care. He chewed on different ideas on how to do so as he made a quick breakfast for himself and for Shay, and then for his team. As soon as he set aside each dish for each pokémon, they sidled over to enjoy it. Bandit was just quick to abandon Shay when his dish hit the ground.

"Well, I guess I'm chopped liver, then. Thanks for that, buddy," she said after the Zigzagoon left her and Norman set her plate and coffee in front of her.

"So, this Birch guy we're meeting this morning…what am I supposed to be doing for him, exactly?"

"Whatever he needs done around his lab."

"Don't I need a license to work in a lab? I feel like I need a license to be near this place."

"You won't be handling any of his equipment directly, I suspect. More like…cleaning. Organization. Filing."

"Basically janitorial and admin work. Got it." Shay pronounced sarcastically. She sopped up some egg yolk with her toast and took a large bite of that. "Good thing I know a thing or two about that."

"What did you do before you ended up here?"

 _Careful, Norman. Ease into it._

"Administrative work. Supply and logistics, mostly. Warehousing on the side and occasionally I operated tactical vehicles when usual operators were in short supply or unavailable." A beat. "I also know how to use a gun, if need be."

That was rather telling. He had to school his face from expressing the troubling thoughts he had rousing beneath the surface at that information. Norman took a sip of his coffee, using those precious seconds to gather his next words carefully.

"You won't need a gun here. Ever."

"Yeah, sure. I get it. Don't need guns, not when we have creatures that can blow the tops off mountains or mind fuck you to the point of becoming a lobotomized vegetable as a result, right?"

He noticed her liberal use of 'we' in that damning answer. She wasn't stupid. She didn't want to be seen as a stray nail needing to be hammered down or yanked out. She was trying to blend in. Norman was beginning to find he liked her very much on that note alone. She was going to be fine in helping him and the rest of the League with keeping a lid on things, or at least for as long as they could to get a handle on this mess, whether she knew it or not.

"If you choose to see it that way."

She said nothing more on the matter and neither did he. Knowing she knew a thing or two about administrative work, however, was useful and Birch could perhaps use that for a while. With his assistants busy with lab-controlled research, and with Birch and Brendan both doing fieldwork, he could imagine the difficulty in remembering to do other basic things.

They left fifteen minutes later, setting out on foot. The lab wasn't far, and they reached it with almost ten minutes to spare. Jacob was the one who unlocked the front entrance when they came knocking, looking exhausted. His shaggy dark hair looked greasy and unkempt as it stuck up in all directions, while beneath his eyes appeared bruised and tender. Even his clothes look like they'd seen better days. Norman surmised he and Meryl, Birch's other assistant, had pulled yet another all-nighter. Perhaps they were shifting attention from Birch's usual range of research to that of the Creation Trio. It took Jacob a moment to recognize Norman for who he was. When he did, he jumped in bewilderment and threw open the door, ushering them inside. Norman didn't miss the questioning stare Jacob cast Shay's way when she passed through the door beside Norman. It almost made him smile at the way she kept up with him, head held high, gaze sweeping but rooted in confidence, like she owned the place.

Birch wasn't far into the lab, and upon seeing Norman, his face lit up. That glee fell away, however, when his gaze strayed to Shay and his expression fell, all in the span of a heartbeat. He seemed to notice his own falter and perked, if only to save face.

"Norman, ya old bastard! 'Bout damn time I saw you around Littleroot!"

Norman took hold of the outstretched hand offered to him, gripping hard in return and leaning into the one-armed hug Birch tugged him into. Birch gave him a few slaps on the back before releasing, grinning.

"It's been a 'goon's age since we last saw each other. We really should go out for beers sometime."

"So long as you're paying and you don't drag me into the field the second bottle in," he joked back. Birch laughed.

"That was just one time, c'mon, now!"

"One time is all it takes."

"Ah. What a stinker." Birch smirked, let it linger. He turned his attention to Shay, offering a milder smile in her direction as he addressed her. "And who is this lovely young lady you've got in tow, Norman? Care to introduce us?"

"Professor Birch, I'd like you to meet Shay Kenway. She's a relative from…from Caroline's side of the family. One of her nieces, I believe."

Birch caught on quickly, offering only the slightest twinkle of confusion in his eyes at first.

"Oh, is that so? Well, that sounds fantastic! Any friend or family of Norman's is a friend of ours! I'm Professor Birch, I run this here lab in Hoenn."

He grinned the second his initial perplexity passed, offering a large, meaty hand toward Shay. She stared at it, assessing, then took it, striking fast and squeezing hard, if the look of bewilderment on Birch's face was anything to go by.

"Whoa, strong grip there! You teaching her any moves, Norman?"

"No, I'm afraid that's all her. Natural raw talent, I'm guessing."

"I'd rather a strong grip than a limp one. Gives a good measure of a person," Shay replied coolly. Birch laughed, and Norman smiled. Cool as a cucumber while under pressure, Shay appeared to be. He was impressed. He wouldn't have blamed her one bit if she were more rattled, more frayed at the edges. But this all made things go a lot smoother than trying to calm and reassure a frazzled woman that she was going to be all right, that she was safe, that nothing bad was going to happen to her. He had to wonder what kind of administrative job that required both a gun and logistic skills that helped her keep her cool so well under pressure. A soldier, perhaps?

It didn't seem so farfetched the more he thought about it.

Another question for another time, and only when the time was right. Now wasn't that time, not in the mixed company they had. Norman was sure that Steven would have kept his conversation with Birch private, away from his research team and his son as well. It wasn't a matter of trust, it was a matter of security. Brendan was a good kid, but he was still a kid…even if, legally, he was technically an adult. Revealing to him something this big was too much to risk at this point in time.

Birch was quick to latch onto Shay, providing a jovial and charismatic energy as he swept her up in a tour throughout the facility, with his aides Jacob Twiss and Meryl Tanner occasionally crossing their paths as they flitted about from one room to the next. Norman followed at his own leisurely pace, having visited Birch a number of times that he was familiar with the place well enough.

He tailed them as Birch showed them around, occasionally fielding questions Shay had, but otherwise, she seemed rather…blasé about it all. Perhaps she was better at hiding her surprise or fear or even excitement than he initially believed.

It was close to the end of the tour of Birch's facility that Shay finally asked when she would get started.

"You can start today, if you'd like. I'm sorry it isn't much more exciting beyond the categorizing and the cleaning, but it's better than puttering around this sorry bastard's house all day with nothing to do while he's in Petalburg working."

"Right. All those gym challengers."

Birch's laughter boomed around them. "Exactly! Although, from what I've been hearing, there haven't been as many challengers hitting him up as much. Why is that, Norman?"

"Not many people can hack it on the long road to becoming Champion, I'm afraid. Flannery's done a rather excellent job in deterring prospective challengers who might have come my way if it weren't for her and her team."

"Oh, right. Flannery. She's as hot as they come when it comes to a sizzling gym battle, I hear. I haven't gotten a chance to watch any recent recordings, I'm afraid, but I hear nothing but good things for our newest gym leader."

The conversation spiraled from there until a voice interjected, calling for an answer from anyone available. Birch replied in kind, giving the new voice directions as to where they all were. Norman recognized the owner of the voice before he saw him rounding the corner to find them: it was Brendan, Birch's son. The young man had really come into his own. It had been quite some time since Norman had last seen him.

In fact, the last time he had seen the young man was…was at the funeral. He had been at least a foot shorter than he was now, a lot lankier, with plenty of baby fat still clinging desperately to his cheeks that had given him a childish and overly youthful appearance. He still looked young now, but there was a leanness and plenty more muscle to his frame that lent a viewer to his maturity as well. His hair was the same deep chestnut colour as his father's, but he had his mother's blue eyes.

When Brendan came jogging up, greeting his father, standing between Shay and Birch, Norman thought that, if one didn't pay too much attention…Shay could have slid into a family photo and no one would have been the wiser.

Brendan greeted his father first and turned to him last with a grin—before he noticed Shay standing just to his side, waiting with a crooked smile painted on her face. He jumped at least a foot or two away from her, a hand flying to his chest.

"Holy crap—I didn't see you there!"

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Advantages of being short; nobody sees ya until it's too late. I'm pretty good at sneaking up on people as a result."

"I guess. Sheesh. You need a bell or something…" Seeming to remember himself, Brendan cleared his throat and offered his hand to Shay. "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! Name's Brendan. I'm, uh, actually this guy's kid."

Shay took Brendan's hand and gave it a firm squeeze, glancing between Brendan and Birch. A smile alit her face as she considered the information.

"Oh, that's pretty cool. Well, I'm Shay, and I'm…I'm just going to be working here. Small-time stuff, like organizing files and cleaning. Nothing spectacular compared to what you guys do, but it'll pass the time."

Brendan took back his hand as Shay released it and looked to his father.

"You're actually hiring someone else? After all the gripe about not wanting anyone else around?"

Norman found his cue and stepped closer.

"He's doing this as a favour to me. She's one of Caroline's nieces. Shay's come to stay with me for the time being and it wouldn't be fair to leave her on her own while I'm at work."

Brendan, thankfully enough, seemed to accept this more readily than if Birch had come up with something. Man couldn't lie that well to his own child. Birch threw him a thankful glance before nodding to Brendan when the young man looked to him for confirmation.

"Right! Yes! Shay's a part of Norman's family, staying for, uh…how long was that again, Norman?"

Shit. He hadn't thought of that.

"I haven't decided yet," Shay quipped rapidly. "I'm at a bit of a…crossroads with life right now, and I thought it'd be best to leave home in Kanto for a change of scenery. I reached out to Uncle Norman to see if I could stay with him. So, here I am."

Fuck. That was actually better than what he was going to say. And that 'Uncle Norman' bit was a nice touch. It drove enough of a connection home that Brendan didn't question it. Birch's family wasn't the only family Shay could have slid into with little question or concern.

"Uh, say Brendan, why don't you show Shay around the rest of the lab while I catch up with Norman, huh? Be a pal for your old man?"

"Not a problem! C'mon Shay, follow me. Hey, has my dad shown you the lab pokémon yet?"

"No, he hasn't. Do you get to handle them a lot, or…?"

As their conversation faded and the backs of the two disappeared down the hall and around a corner, Norman turned to Birch. Birch visibly slumped and wiped a hand over his brow.

"Jeez. She's good. I actually got stumped on what to say. I forgot to let Brendan know we were getting a new…well, she isn't exactly a team member, but she's still going to be around, you know?"

"I'll admit I hadn't thought of a believable story myself. She pulled in a pinch. I can only hope that things continue to go this smoothly with her. And with any other Appeared."

Birch tilted his head to glance at Norman.

"Have there been any more?"

"Not that I've heard, but I'm sure they'll make themselves known soon enough. Wallace checked in with that one he found."

"Oh? And? What's the verdict?"

Norman pursed his lips.

"Dead. He got attacked by several Sharpedo, apparently, and he hadn't wanted us to worry until he had an idea of his survival rate. Bled out just as they got to the hospital in Sootopolis."

Birch cursed quietly under his breath and exhaled loudly. "Poor bastard."

"My sentiments exactly. I can only hope that the other Appeared who come to this place won't have as hard a time with the local pokémon like that."

"We can hope," Birch replied with a nod. "They could be luckier, though. Sharpedo are pretty aggressive when something enters their territory or threatens their food supply. Or what they perceive as a threat, anyway. And I'd definitely qualify humans as a threat, considering the environmental impact we've been leaving more and more of over the years."

Norman hummed back a nonverbal response. There was a companionable moment of silence between the two of them. Birch broke it first, heaving a sigh.

"So now what? We just…let her work here, pretend we don't know anything, hope for a miracle?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure. About what comes next, I mean. Steven hasn't exactly offered a solution on the matter, especially since we're having to pull our forces, so to speak, back home from supporting efforts to help in Sinnoh to deal with these…terrorist organizations."

"Right, he mentioned that. Team Aquatic and Magnet or some such?"

"Team Aqua and Team Magma," Norman corrected. "But at the moment, I'm not ready to deal with it all. There's already a lot on all our plates."

"True. I feel like I should be worrying about presenting my new research to the upcoming summit but with all of this weighing down on us, it's going to be hard to focus."

"I hear what you're saying. But Steven was specific on the matter, that we should continue as though nothing is wrong here in Hoenn. Eventually, I suppose the Appeared and the Missing will make more of a headline in the future, but for now, we should be working towards avoiding a panic."

"Not ideal," Birch muttered. He sighed, quick and short, and clapped a hand on Norman's shoulder. "I'll help her get settled in, you don't need to stick around. Keep me updated on things if you hear anything."

"Thank you, Birch. I really appreciate this."

"Not a problem. I know this is all happening fast, but the quicker we respond…"

"The better we'll get a grip on things." Norman finished with a wry smile. "Thank you again. I'll be by at around five to pick her up."

"Nah, don't worry about all that. I'll just have Brendan walk her home until she gets used to coming and going on her own."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, she seems like a sharp kid."

"Birch, she's twenty-seven."

"Oh! Oh…I thought…she looks…"

"Yes, I thought so too. She seems a bit sensitive on the matter."

"Got it. Now, get on out of here, ya old coot! I'll take care of things around here!"

"I'm not old, I'm barely forty…" Norman grumbled, eyeing his old friend with distaste.

Birch let off another one of his booming laughs. "Now who's sensitive to their age?"

* * *

Life had become unnecessarily complicated and yet simultaneously simple all at once. She was displaced from her home dimension and upon her first day, had been arrested, interrogated, and subsequently released. That was the complicated part. The easy part was getting scooped up before she was allowed to metaphorically drown in the deep end, given shelter and a job shortly after.

But this all was called luck and it would eventually run out.

As much as Shay wanted to milk it for all it's worth, there was a hard slab of stone weighing her down in the pit of her chest, grinding away at her insides. A whisper at the back of her head was constantly telling her it was a trap, that something was wrong, that she was being played for a fool. She had tried to ignore it since Norman sprung her from the police station, but by the end of her first day working at Professor Birch's place, the whisper had grown to a roar and the heaviness became unbearable and made breathing difficult, and her appetite suffered for the rest of the day.

Even when Brendan had snuck out the lab pokémon for her to interact with—and holy fuck, she couldn't even describe how fucking cute they all were, even more than their art sprites from the games—the nausea and taste of bile at the back of her throat barely dissipated.

 _Someone_ knows _something_ , she concluded. _Someone_ _knows_ something.

Shay was willing to bet that that someone was Norman, and Norman knew something. Why else would he go along with the tall tale that she was his dead wife's niece from Kanto, rather than outing her for what she was? She would bet anything that the other day, he had been at some sort of meeting, and it had something to do with her.

She had barely taken in any of Brendan's rambling on their walk back to Norman's house after Birch released her from work. She would nod at appropriate intervals, humming an occasional nonverbal response, and added in a few yes or no answers for good measure. By the time they reached the front garden gate, Brendan had fallen quiet suddenly. The lack of his chattering made Shay tune in, somehow more unnerved by the hush of the early evening than his voice.

He was standing there, hands shoved into his jean pockets and shoulders hunched, making him appear smaller than he actually was. He was staring at her expectantly, waiting, all while appearing a tad awkward.

"Uh, so, this is your stop. I hope that your first day wasn't too bad. I kinda got sidetracked from what I was going to get done today, but that's all right."

"Ah, shit, really? I didn't mean to take up any of your time."

"That's fine, really. It was better me than one of my dad's assistants. They had more important stuff to get done, really. Someone has to work in the lab, since my dad spends more time in the field than he does indoors." He grinned at her, shrugging. He pulled a hand from his pocket and extended it to her. "It was great to meet you, Shay. I won't be around the lab as much, but if you ever need someone to hang out, you can give me a shout-out when I'm not doing research."

"Sounds like a plan, dude. I'll be sure to hit you up. Thanks again for showing me around," Shay shot back breezily, returning the smile. Brendan took his leave after that and Shay watched briefly, then headed inside. Norman was already cooking something, and it smelled delicious.

The Slaking duo, Solomon and Kane, were predictably already knocked out, having staked out positions in front of the quietly playing television as a pokémon contest program continued unhindered. Bandit the Zigzagoon was napping with Art the Linoone on the loveseat. Drizzle the Spinda and Dom the Vigoroth were having a quiet conversation with one another. The team members that were awake gave her a chorus of greetings. Norman poked his head around the corner out of the kitchen, gave her a greeting, then returned back to whatever he was cooking, calling that it'd be ready soon.

Shay meandered over to the couch and picked up the remote, upping the volume of the contest as she sat down. In all honesty, Shay hardly watched television back home, hadn't bothered to pay for cable or satellite services. She had depended primarily on streaming services—Netflix and Hulu, with YouTube thrown into the mix for gaming culture updates mostly—and then she ended up transferring a vast majority of her preferred television shows and movies to a massive digital library. It was why she carried her laptop and external hard drive with her to work. During her lunch hours, she'd watch something to pass the time. In fact, the only discs she had around these days were physical copies of games she had accumulated over the years, and old DVDs in a binder case she rarely ever touched.

Her stomach twisted at the memory and a sudden thought lanced through her, and she wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and watch one of her own programs, to garner some amount of comfort and familiarity and _normalcy_. She started to get up from the couch but was intercepted by Dom the Vigoroth.

Dom was nearly as tall as her, even slouched over as he was, yet despite his smaller stature, he kept her boxed effectively between the couch and the coffee table. He stared for only a moment longer, before offering his two-clawed paw toward her. It took Shay a brief second to realize he was offering it to shake.

"Sorry 'bout th' other day, luv. I know my kind are a bit…voracious in tempah sometimes. I was just followin' orders. Hope it's all water under th' bridge between us."

Shay stared, flabbergasted. The Vigoroth stared, his lips pulling into a frown.

"You alright, luv?" Silence. "Oi. You _can_ understand me, can't ya? Thought you could 'ear our kind. The little'un over yonder told us so." He jerked his head in Bandit's direction.

"I…I can, yes. Sorry. I just…wasn't expecting you to have a…Cockney accent."

She hoped it was a Cockney accent. Shay could identify a number of American accents, but those from England? Hopeless.

Dom tilted his head at her, confusion written clearly on his furry face.

"Wassa 'Cockney'?"

"Never mind." She shook her head and took the proffered paw to her and shook it. It was all so very… _human_ of him. "And it's not a problem. Really. I understand following orders."

Dom seemed to accept this and displayed a very toothy grin in her direction. "Glad t' 'ear it. Anyway, food's nearly done. Can't wait. Don't know 'bout you, but I'm damn hungry."

With that said, Dom wandered off, looking pleased as punch. Shay stared after his shaggy backside, mostly astonished. She was drawn out of her reverie by something pawing at her leg and she glanced down to see Bandit vying for her attention, a happy grin on his face.

"Hey, you're back!" He patted Shay's leg while dancing on the spot, liquid brown eyes shimmering with affection. Shay found herself returning the smile, feeling a small amount of warmth blooming in her at the Zigzagoon's excitement. Though he seemed to resemble a racoon more than a canine, he certainly had the qualities and affection of a small dog. She reached down and scratched Bandit on the head, under his chin, and behind his ears. This earned her content trills and burbles from the pokémon.

Just as she excused herself, Norman took that moment to announce that dinner was done, cutting short her escape back upstairs.

* * *

"How was your first day?"

"Gee, where to start? Should it be with learning a new letter or a new number, or perhaps a new shape and colour today?"

Shay had to cut down her smirk into a tight-lipped smile instead, even in the face of a disapproving glare shot her way. She sniffed lightly and took a bite of the creamy chowder Norman had prepared for dinner, chasing it with a biting of sourdough bread paired with the chowder.

"I learned about the filing system and how it needs to be reorganized, what places and what equipment I'm allowed to clean and how often. I've also been given access to the lab pokémon. Again, mostly cleaning duties, but I can give them some one-on-one time when things get slow and they're in need of stimulation."

"That sounds fantastic. The last part, I mean."

"Definitely. Brendan showed me them. I'm digging the Torchic. Love the smell of feather dust."

Shay fell quiet. Norman didn't prod her any further, judging her silence was intentional. She couldn't tell if he had more to say, or if he was simply accepting that she was done and closed off regarding the subject. His face was schooled into a deliberate mask of neutrality. It irked her.

 _He knows something,_ that trifling little voice whispered at the back of her head. The bullheaded part of her wanted to ask outright what he knew, to get belligerent until he told her…what, exactly? What, if anything, did he know about her? Did he even know anything?

 _Why would he bother springing me from the police station? What could he possibly gain with setting me up in his house and with a job?_

She stared into the bowl of food in front of her, her appetite once again waning. She heard a loud clink of silverware on Norman's side of the table and she lifted her gaze to meet his. He watched her, quiet and guarded.

"Is everything all right?"

She dropped her gaze, lips pressing tightly together into a thin line. She pondered over the decision to say something or not, before she told herself what else could she possibly lose?

"I still don't understand what made you have me released from police custody. Why you're allowing me to stay here. What you could possibly gain in helping me get a job here in town." Shay lifted her eyes to meet Norman's once more. "What kind of game are you playing here, Norman?"

Norman took his time in putting down his spoon, in taking a sip of his water, and wiping his lips with his napkin. Leisurely and deliberate in his movements, she could see he was gathering his words as carefully as possible.

"Why don't you tell me what you know first?"

She blinked, taken aback, thrown for a loop. All that jazz. She mentally pinwheeled, unsure of how to answer at first. Norman waited patiently, his eyes steely and locked tight on her face.

"I…I have no idea what you're—"

"Don't bullshit me, young lady. You end up in my home, without having broken in or tripping my house alarms. You have no identification on your person, you refuse to answer even the most basic of questions like what your real name is or where you're from. There are one too many holes in your story, and anyone who paid attention could see that. I'm not a fool, much as you probably hope that I am."

If Shay could choke on her own tongue, she probably would have swallowed it to do just that if it meant getting away from this conversation. Her heart gave a painful lurch in her chest and proceeded to pound away like a war drum, a boost of terror coursing through her veins at light speed.

 _Shit, shit, shit._

She tried to think up a good enough excuse, to draw on that well of inspiration she had dived into earlier when interacting with Professor Birch and Brendan. Now she was scratching at bone-dry dirt, without any hope of hitting jackpot. Her tongue grew thick and clumsy in her mouth, her brain slowly drained out to a blank, and her shoulders slowly but surely fell to a defeated slump. She broke first, dropping her stare once more, this time in bitter resignation. Norman sighed.

"What do you know?" She inquired quietly.

"Are you aware of a region called Sinnoh?"

"I've heard of it in a news clip the other day."

"Right. Did they mention anything more than its name?"

"…not really. It was the tail end of a report before it flipped to something else."

"Sinnoh is currently under siege. Mostly by a few of pokémon who are colloquially known as the Creation Trio. They include Palkia, Dialga, and Giratina. The other half of the trouble is that of Team Galactic, a terrorist organization who are the reason these ancient pokémon are running amok in the first place. Now they're raging war with one another. These pokémon…they specialize in bending space, time, and in Giratina's case, tearing rifts open to an alternate dimension. We—as in the collective League members, gym leaders, and Champions across several regions—believe that because of this volatile activity, their combined powers may have torn rifts in the fabric of reality and opened us up to…other dimensions, besides the one that Giratina originally resided in. So, tell me…are you from this world, or are you from another?"

The silence was deafening. It was damning. Even Shay's heartbeat couldn't drown out the oppressive hush that had fallen upon the room. She wanted to answer yes. She also wanted to deny any allegations that she was, while true, not from this world. Fear gripped at her, stretching her muteness for longer than she would have liked. Finally, she settled for a wordless nod to start with. Her entire mouth—tongue, cheeks, gums, and all—felt numb as she found the will to speak again.

"I'm not…from this world. I come from a place where we don't have pokémon. We have animals, but they can't…fry a person's brain with a blast of psychic power. They don't breathe fire so hot that it can melt stone. They aren't able to crunch through metal like it's an afternoon snack. Our animals have their own amazing natural abilities, sure, because nature evolves to allow species thrive and survive in the face of adversity, but…nothing like what I've sampled from television here."

She fell mute once more, and she felt…light. It was easier to breath, like a weight has been lifted from her chest and the tension in her shoulders and back lessened considerably. She snuck a peek at Norman's face and froze at the expression on his face.

He was smiling at her. She couldn't look away.

"What?" She finally snapped, unable to take the discomfort that was sizzling away at her insides.

"It must feel good to get that out in the open."

She tried to swallow and found her throat scraped about like sandpaper. She swiped up her glass of water and gulped down big swallows before she trusted herself to answer.

"I didn't think it'd be a good idea to say anything to anyone," she admitted. Norman nodded in agreement.

"Smart choice. Right now, the Hoenn League are aware of your situation. A day ago, another Appeared was found, but he unfortunately perished."

Shay felt the blood drain her face. "What happened?"

"Sharpedo attack. It's…a kind of big fish with teeth. Lots of them. He was picked up by Sootopolis's gym leader, Wallace, and taken to the hospital, but he died of blood loss before they could do anything for him."

"I guess I'm lucky in comparison."

"I would say the same thing," Norman said. "Professor Birch is also aware of your situation. You don't need to hide anything from him. But I would keep up the "family façade" with Brendan and anyone else you meet for that matter. We're trying to limit the number of people who know about this for as long as possible. The last thing we need is a panic, considering it's not just people appearing in our world, but people who are disappearing. And we assume pokémon as well."

"There are people who are going missing?" Shay thought to the news report she had listened to, just days ago, saw the video of the foreign fishing vessel, and of the shark with the golden star emblazoned on its skull. She shivered, recalling with damning clarity that it had been what she had originally thought it to be: a Sharpedo. She had been hoping that it had been a hoax.

"Yes, but currently as it stands, it'll be next to impossible to sort through who are missing through normal conventions versus those that have been gone missing due to pokémon ripping holes in the fabric of reality."

"It'd be a nationwide panic," Shay concluded. "Every time someone is out of sight, they'll go stir-crazy and accuse the Creation Trio for making their friends or loved ones go missing."

"Exactly." He studied her. "You seem very calm about this. I honestly wouldn't blame you for…well, freaking out."

"I've had three days to adjust. It takes three days for someone's world to adapt when it's been turned upside down."

"That hardly seems like enough time to adjust." Norman replied, his tone sounding doubtful of her claims. Shay snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Would you rather I be screaming and crying instead of trying to learn how to get along in this world without drawing attention to myself?"

"I was actually thinking that earlier. I think I prefer the latter."

"There you go." Shay glanced down at her bowl of chowder, half-eaten, and growing colder with every passing minute. "What now?"

"We try to find a way to get you and any Appeared back home. Try to retrieve any of our missing citizens. Steven, our region's Champion, met briefly with several other region Champions, and they too have been experiencing the same Missing and Appeared issues. They'll be working on a solution to do much the same."

"What about harnessing the power of the Creation Trio?"

"These pokémon are equivalent to gods. Ancient creatures that we couldn't possibly dream of containing, not very easily or for very long, if it is indeed possible. Team Galactic thought they could do just that and look where it got them. Scattered, leaderless, and if the reports are to be trusted, they suffered heavy losses when the Creation Trio first broke free."

"Can't someone just…catch them?" Shay pressed tentatively, earning her an exasperated exhale from Norman.

"We don't have the technology to do that, and even if we hypothetically did…do you really believe it'd be right to try and compress all that power into a pokéball? To be forced into servitude to one person?"

"…point taken, although I don't see why they couldn't be released back to where they belong afterwards."

Norman sighed again. "In theory, it sounds simple. In practice, I imagine it'd be infinitely more difficult. And we're not in Sinnoh, right on the front lines of where they are. We're in Hoenn. There's not much we can do from here, except wait."

"Christ, I hate that option. 'Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait'. Story of my fucking life."

"It doesn't sound exciting, I know. Believe me, I can sympathize."

"Can't I just go to Sinnoh, then?"

Norman laughed, and it was a bitter, hollow sound. "And do what, exactly? You can't travel anywhere. Not without a trainer ID or a passport. And you don't have a pokémon team, if you're thinking of doing something stupid, like confronting any one of the Creation Trio. Because it wouldn't just be one, it'd eventually be all three. Where one is, the other two aren't far behind. And besides…from what I've been hearing, travel into the country has been banned, except for pre-approved individuals, such as the Champion."

Shay fell quiet again, this time in embarrassment. Norman glowered at her, but it was half-hearted and there really wasn't any menace in his stare at all. She knew he was trying to be well-meaning. She couldn't blame him for pointing out the fallacy in her ideas. It didn't mean his words didn't sting. There was little room for levity at this point, and Shay's appetite had finally abandoned her in full. She quietly got up and gathered her bowl up. Norman stood, moving to take the bowl but she shook her head and sidestepped him.

"I'm good. I just…don't feel very hungry. I think I'm going to call it a night."

With that said, he reluctantly let her go. Shay stored her uneaten food into the fridge, passing by the legion of eyes watching her every step—and belatedly remembering that Norman wasn't the only one who heard her confession—and marched right upstairs after, slow and methodical. Her legs felt like heavy lead weights, and every step seemed to burn with effort. When she got to her borrowed room, she went inside and stood with her back braced against the closed door, taking in and expelling out deep breathes, trying to hold back the twisting, sick feeling reacquainting itself with her stomach.

When she couldn't keep up with the exercise, she gradually collapsed in on herself, curling up on the ground and began sobbing quietly.

* * *

 ** _Notes_ : I almost forgot to update today because I've been sucked into the new Tomb Raider game lately. Sorry, my peeps! Forgive me if I find myself delving into ancient Maya and Inca ruins lately rather than pokémon lore. XD But please don't forget to drop a line in the review box and let me know what you guys think! **


	5. Chapter Four: Under Pressure

**Chapter Four:  
Under Pressure**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes:_ Apologies for the extremely late chapter. School work took a higher priority on my to-do list. I also wanted to take more time to edit this chapter, as some parts I wasn't entirely satisfied with. Incidentally, I also got a new computer, and spent a good while transferring files to a more centralized home computer, as opposed to continuing operating solely my laptop. **

**Lastly, welcome to my new readers! I hope you've been enjoying yourselves so far. Let me know your thoughts in the review section! I'd love to hear from y'all, new and old readers alike!**

* * *

" _Bones doesn't feel pressure to act or do or say anything that she doesn't want to, and no one,_ noone _, can make her. That's what makes her Bones."  
_ **-Agent Seeley Booth, "** _ **Bones**_ **"**

* * *

Shay threw herself into work.

It was quite a feat, considering she hated cleaning with a passion. But the administrative work, the organization and the filing and the sorting…she was actually kind of good at it. It was almost soothing, the monotony of that particular side of her job. Cross-referencing by subject, date, and file typing kept her busy for a number of hours, so much so, she often lost track of time. She occasionally chatted with Jacob and Meryl, whenever they caught a break in their own work. She was allowed to continue having access to the lab pokémon: Treecko, Torchic, and Mudkip.

That alone left her with mixed feelings. A part of her deep down knew she should feel excitement every time she was given even moment alone with them. All of them were rather loyal to their art designs back home, although they were less…cartoony. Realism took over from there.

For example, the entire body of Treecko was covered in tiny scales, just like a gecko's, and while his tail did curl, it was less exaggerated than what she recalled from the game art. Shay also learned the hard way that his mouth was lined with tiny sharp teeth. She was thankful his kind weren't venomous, although that didn't stop her from being thorough in cleaning the wound on her hand and changing the bandage every day. He still had the large yellow eyes, however, and they stared at _everything_. Always staring.

It was funny to watch him lick it, right out of the blue, though. It broke the illusion of seriousness that he seemed to constantly exude.

Torchic was nothing but an orange-and-yellow feather duster, straight up. She constantly preened and fussed over her feathers, especially her small wings. Shay often heard her chirp on how she couldn't wait for them to grow out when she evolved, hopefully someday soon. The crest on her head wasn't as exaggerated, either, and each feather was more distinguishable, even at a glance. They almost reminded her of an umbrella cockatoo, or maybe even a cockatiel, given the Torchic's diminutive size.

Mudkip was another story altogether. The orange external gills on the side of his face were more detailed, with tiny fronds tipping each prong, and it was more muted in colour as well. His skin, however, was as smooth as his game art had suggested, and despite his eyes being black as coal, there was life and giddiness dancing in their depths. He, thankfully, had no sharp little teeth lining the gums in his mouth, but he wasn't opposed to playfully nipping Shay's hands. She didn't begrudge him for it, although she kept a wary eye on Torchic's beak and Treecko's jaws.

She grew up learning that anything with a mouth can, and probably will, bite.

Shay, however, was poignant in ignoring their chirrups of inquiries, feigning ignorance to their words. They somehow knew she could understand them. She knew that they knew. She ignored them all the same. It made things easier in the end. If she didn't want people knowing her origins, she also didn't want them to know that she can apparently understand pokémon when no one else around her could.

Somehow, it made her feel she'd be more of a target if others knew.

Eventually, the lab pokémon learned to not make inquiries directed at her, but they always cast her a knowing look whenever they caught her eye.

She still had mixed feelings on the matter of being able to understand something other than a human. It was nearly impossible to do so at Norman's home, with his team. She's already made the mistake of acknowledging them, but they too seemed to understand her anxiety around them and Norman all at the same time. They seemed to understand she preferred to say nothing in his presence, but was more inclined to reply in private.

This discomfort soon corrected itself when he finally returned to Petalburg City, to resume his work as both a community and gym leader. He promised he would attempt to come back at least over the weekends, to check in on how things were going, to restock the house with food and any other needed supplies, and to give Shay some company. Shay was silently hoping he'd stay away and possibly forget about her. Even though it was a weight off her chest that he knows her true otherworldly origins, it didn't make it any less awkward. She felt exposed under his gaze, as though he were silently judging her.

Rationally, she knew he wasn't. He seemed open-minded and not very judgmental at all in regards to her. The irrational side of her didn't seem to give two fucks and still beat at the proverbial horse that this was what he was thinking, in spite of her rational side trying to override this train of thought.

Before Norman left after her first week, he offered to leave Bandit with her, to let her have some amount of company in lieu of his absence. Reflex made her reject the offer as politely as possible, even when a small part of her had been tempted to accept. After he left, she regretted acting on such a kneejerk reaction.

At the end of the day, she fleetingly wished she had some form of friend with her, human or otherwise, but in the end, she managed to find comfort in her own way. At nights, when she was back in Norman's house, she tried to watch as much television as she could stomach. The alien programs eventually wore on her, a constant reminder that she wasn't a resident of this world. She would retreat upstairs, boot up her laptop and find relief in familiar shows and films she had on file.

Nearly two months passed since her arrival, with a routine ingraining itself in Shay's schedule. She'd wake up and get ready, go to work at Professor Birch's lab, take off when she was released from work, and come back to Norman's house to eat dinner. She'd watch pokémon world television in the evening, but eventually she'd get sick of it all and retreat upstairs to watch her world's programs on her computer until she went to bed. On occasion, when she wanted to break that routine up, she would read books she borrowed from Professor Birch's lab to learn what she could about the world or pokémon, or she would draw in her sketch book.

Rinse, lather, repeat.

In the two months she's worked at the lab, her routine remained stagnant with the individuals who frequented it: Professor Birch, Jacob Twiss, and Meryl Tanner. In all honesty, it wasn't that dissimilar to her routine back home.

Brendan Birch was sorely lacking in presence, just as he had warned her when they first met. It was nearly two months to the day before she saw hide or hair of Brendan again. The day he came back was the day he suggested they all go out after work for drinks and dinner. Jacob and Meryl readily accepted the offer with eager enthusiasm to have a break in their routine. Shay was reluctant, and it took all three to finally wear her down and cajole her into going with them.

They ended up taking Jacob's car to Petalburg, and over the hour, there was karaoke via the radio (Shay quietly sat and listened), conversations about the upcoming summit that Professor Birch was gearing up for (she sat and listened quietly to this as well), and then the conversation took a turn towards an unexpected subject: Sinnoh.

Shay straightened in her seat, perking attentively as Brendan dove into what kind of possibilities there could be in studying the Creation Trio, although he added that he hoped that they wouldn't drive one another outside of Sinnoh's borders. Things have grown quiet over in the other region further down south of Hoenn, almost to the point where news broadcasts out there have all but stopped. Even the Hoenn newsfeeds have practically stopped reporting on the matter, strangely enough.

"I mean, don't get me wrong," he backpedaled, "I feel terrible for the Sinnohans, I really do. And I also hope that they're able to get all the legendary pokémon back to where they belong. I just…ahhh. I don't know, it'd just be so cool to be able to see them up close, ya know?"

There wasn't much left said in reference to the troubles the Creation Trio were enacting, and Shay slumped in her seat and went back to staring outside, disappointed. It took a poke to the shoulder to draw her out of her thoughts and she jumped, halfway reaching for the offending appendage to smack at it, eyes wide and wild. Brendan, from the front seat, grinned, his hand quickly retracting back.

"Whoa, she's alive! Hey, Shay, can you tell us what it's like to live in Kanto?"

She blinked at him, drawing a blank at first before she recalled she had given Kanto as a throwaway line to her "backstory" to everyone else present. Meryl, sitting beside her, was smiling expectantly. She and Jacob have asked her on occasion in the last two months as well, and she always managed to skirt the issue or excuse herself from the conversation as politely as she could. Here and now, she wasn't able to simply escape from the conversation via work.

"Um…there's…not much to say."

"Aw, don't be like that! C'mon, Shay, you been with us for a few months now and we don't know all that much about you!" Jacob wheedled, with Meryl mirroring his comments.

"Again, not much to say. I'm at a crossroads in life right now."

"What kind of crossroads, though," Meryl pressed good-naturedly. "You never really specified. Is it a midlife crisis, in-between jobs, what?"

Before Shay had to answer, Jacob chided Meryl, and the other woman mumbled an apology. Shay offered Meryl a smile.

"It's fine. I'm not all…together in my life right now and I just needed to get away."

"You could have fooled Meryl and me; you seem to be on top of everything!" Jacob laughed. Brendan cast a curious look over his shoulder at Shay.

"Really, now? She's doing that good?"

Shay didn't miss the sly glimpse Brendan sent her way, the beginnings of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Shay diverted her gaze away, discomfort making her guts squirm.

"Good enough that we haven't had to run around screaming about some file we misplaced and are desperate to find," Jacob allowed. "It's nice to actually have someone able to get to it because we're too busy or just plain can't."

"And with the summit coming up, I can only imagine," Brendan said sympathetically. "I know Dad's been riding me for more information to add to his reports, but there's only so far I can go, ya know?"

"Why don't you try to challenge the region's gyms, then? You could get access to otherwise out-of-the-way places and see pokémon that aren't seen all that often except by trainers on their challenge tour." Meryl suggested offhandedly. The conversation began anew in earnest between the other three in the vehicle, and Shay once more fell to the role of quiet listener. While the topic was interesting, she didn't have much else to contribute and was glad that the focus had shifted away from her.

 _What would I have said if they kept pressing? Christ, it's been_ so long _since I played in any of the other games. What events happened? Let's see…the magnet train between Kanto and Johto is up, that's for sure. The Pokémon Tower in Lavender Town was converted to a radio tower if I'm not mistaken. Shit. Did the volcano on Cinnabar erupt and bury the island yet?_

She couldn't afford to be caught off guard like that again. Like a deer caught in the beams of a car's headlights, she just about nearly froze and panicked. Her heart was still thumping away like a timpani drum, loud as thunder in her ears. She wouldn't have been surprised if the others could hear it, if it were any louder.

She'd need to have at least a more basic outline of events that have happened in Kanto now that she was stuck with the backstory. Two months she's squandered, and failed to learn more about the other region. She'd have to get access to the internet here and look up some of these things when she could. Perhaps when she got back to the lab tomorrow, she'd do some research when no one was looking…

The restaurant they chose for their night out was a gourmet burger joint coupled with a bar. To Shay, it reminded her of a _Red Robin_ , but this place didn't have a cartoony red bird for its logo. This place was quaintly called _Pikipek Tiki Hut_ , with the titular pokémon as its proud mascot.

As soon as they stepped through the threshold, the design struck her boldly as "island nation couture". Shay amended her parallel upon seeing the interior design: this place reminded her of the burger joint _Islands_ more than it did _Red Robin_. Just as she was thinking this, the other three were remarking on the Alolan architectural signatures of the restaurant design, ignoring the size of the crowd waiting in the lobby. All waiting benches were filled and it was standing room only. Above in the rafters, the chirrups of bird cries drew Shay's attention and she saw familiar profiles of the restaurant's titular pokémon mascot: several Pikipek were socializing above the crowd, chattering with one another as they watched the people below them.

"This is one of just three _Pikipek Tiki Hut_ restaurants in Hoenn! They just opened it up and it's been a big hit! I've been dying to come out here and try some of their food ever since it opened up," Meryl exclaimed excitedly, peering over the rim of her frameless glasses. They all had to raise their voices to be heard over the crowd's thrall.

"Ya don't say? I just hope you're not really dying, that'd be a real shame," Brendan drawled back with a lazy grin painted on his face. He and Jacob shared a laugh. Meryl glanced at Shay and rolled her eyes.

"Boys. So immature, am I right?"

"Damn straight. My mama always said, "boys are stupid" and she ain't wrong," Shay said with a grin. This remark earned indignant cries from Jacob and Brendan. This only made Shay grin wider, and Meryl cackled.

"Wise words to remember! I like your mother already!"

They sluiced the rest of the way through the crowd to get to the podium, and the hostess waved them over.

"How many in your party?" she said to them over the din.

"I called earlier this afternoon to get a table? Should be under 'Twiss'," Jacob replied. The hostess paused, looked over her ledger, then nodded and grabbed a few menus, signaling for them to follow her.

The tables were packed and teeming with all manner of life, human and pokémon alike. Shay nearly tripped over a Seviper draped in the middle of the walkway between tables. It whirled in an instant and flashed its fangs at her, screeching for her to watch where she was going. It just as quickly withdrew, dipping its head in submission when its trainer chided the reptile and apologized on its behalf to her. She waved it off, offering a thin smile to the trainer. A Makuhita came waddling between the lanes, overburdened trays of steaming, delicious food in its hands and it even donned an apron with the restaurant's logo emblazoned on the front. The Makuhita deftly sidestepping between tables and around patrons with surprising grace in its squat little form. It drew Shay's attention like flies to honey as she watched and she stopped dead in her tracks to stare brazenly. It was almost like watching a dancer, with the way the Makuhita navigated around the tables, pokémon and people alike. Brendan had to bring her back down to earth again and she was back to following until they hit a corner booth near the back.

They settled in and their server was there nearly as soon as the hostess took her leave, beaming at them as he asked if they would like to order drinks, so on and so forth. It was the usual one-two punch as far as restaurant etiquette went. Shay wasn't sure if she was expecting something dazzlingly different from where she came from or not. As soon as they all unanimously decided on water for the time being, the conversation that had died down in the car picked back up like it hadn't lost a beat.

"Have you talked to your father about taking up the League Challenge at all, Brendan? I mean, I've seen you use the lab pokémon on occasion, and you've got the right instincts to becoming a full-fledged trainer. You went to the trainer school in Rustboro, you've had extra tutelage under your dad's watchful eye. I could see you taking on Steven one day!"

Meryl was smiling in earnest at Brendan and reached across the table to squeeze the young man's hand. Jacob snorted, breaking up the tender moment within a heartbeat. Meryl quickly snatched back her hand, her cheeks colouring pink and bright. Jacob continued unhindered.

"Next thing you know, you'll be telling him to become the Champion across all the regions, Meryl! The World Champ supreme!"

"Hey, one thing at a time," Meryl smirked, jabbing her elbow in Jacob's side playfully. Shay snorted back a laugh, trying to hide her smile, but failed tremendously.

"What, you think it's funny too?" Meryl simpered at her and Shay shook her head, waving her hands in mock surrender.

"No, no. He should do what he wants to do." She took pause to glance curiously over at the young man. "What exactly do you want to do, Brendan?"

Brendan shrugged back in response as he drummed his fingers on the table. He distracted himself by scanning through the menu, or perhaps it was an excuse to prolong in answering. They took this as a cue to do the same. Shay stared at the names of specialty dishes and felt her head spiraling and the words were going along with it, like she was reading another language. The pokémon-themed dishes didn't help but she managed to bluster on through and finally settle on _something_. She was mindful to remember her funds were limited, and she couldn't afford to overspend. After a round of agreement on what they all wanted, Brendan sighed, snapping his menu shut and laying it back on the table.

He glanced at the others in the booth along with him, drumming his fingers along the tabletop, nervousness thrumming through his body like an electric current.

"Honestly, I don't really know what I'd like to do. I mean, I like doing field research for my dad, but Meryl brings up a good point. I'd be able to have access in places further out that only certified trainers or regional professors can get to. You don't exactly see aromatherapy specialists climbing the mountainous trails of Route 119 just to get to a Tropius, and breeders tend to stick close to home where it's safe. Definitely can't see one rolling around in the deserts looking for Trapinch or a Cacnea. Why bother when you can get a trainer to do the dirty work? I mean, it'd be an amazing opportunity to get out there. Not just for research, but…I'd like to travel. I kind of want to get out there just to get away and see things for myself."

"Then go! I've been telling you this for almost a couple of years now, haven't I?"

Brendan's lips quirked into another smile as he regarded Meryl. "I guess…I guess I'm at a bit of a crossroads myself, like Shay. Stuck on what to do and where to go."

"Oh my god, then stop complaining about it and just _do_ it, Brendan! You've been whining about it enough!" Jacob laughed, earning a pout from Brendan.

"I haven't been _whining_ , Jacob. I've just been…weighing my options."

"You're not going to get much else done if you don't make a choice," Shay added.

"Says the woman at her own set of crossroads!" Jacob said with a guffaw. "Maybe you should get on out there yourself if you _really_ wanting a change of scenery from Kanto. Hoenn's pretty far removed from Kanto as can be!"

The waiter came back, bearing their glasses of ice water, and after relaying their food orders, the table was cleared of their menus. Shay felt her mouth taste bitter and dry as ashes as Jacob's words rattled around in her skull while the conversation continued to drift around. Challenging the Champion was a set of words that continued to echo about her skull like a scream in a cave, the words bouncing off the wall, lingering beyond the life of the origin's voice.

It sounded suspiciously like the beginnings of a player character from the _Pokémon_ games of _Ruby_ and _Sapphire_. Or perhaps the updated versions of the games, but either way, it was familiar enough to her that it raised more than a few red flags. She wasn't entirely sure yet, but either way, it was dangerous territory to be edging into. Shay felt her stomach twisting into knots when she thought of it. If Brendan hasn't gone off like in the games, if Norman's wife and child had died before even making it to Hoenn…then what else has changed? What else has deviated from the storyline, forever changing the course of history in this world?

The lizard part of her brain told her she was better off staying where it was safe, where she had security, to wait things out and not think too much on it. The more restless side of her brain told her to fuck that noise. She had joined the Marine Corps in an effort to challenge herself, to get out there, to test herself. She didn't make it through all the trials and tribulations that came with earning that title by playing it safe.

If she had done that, she would have gone to community college like most of everyone else who had graduated in her senior year of high school almost eight years ago. The idea of living out what had once only been a video game to her actually sounded kind of…thrilling. Exciting. Challenging. Tempting beyond words.

She shouldn't be allowing herself to rot by sitting around, filing paperwork and puttering in a lab all day for god knew how long. Why was she allowing herself to remain stagnant in such a role…?

"What exactly entails to becoming a trainer who can take on the League Challenge?" She queried suddenly, earning her a few baffled expressions in response.

"Um…well, I dunno about how things are done in Kanto, but here in Hoenn, you just need a license. You can get that at the Academy up in Rustboro City after a few years of studying there. The legal age for trainers to start out is eighteen, but there's not an age cap on who can take the Challenge, so the sky's the limit for just about anyone after that age. I think Drake, one of the League members, he's up there in his sixties. So, there's that."

"That…sounds about right. Similar to Kanto," Shay mumbled noncommittally.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur, as everyone's attention was quickly captured by the big screen television sets mounted on the wall coming to life with pokémon battles. Shay munched away on a chili burger with thick steak fries, falling into the same mute bystander role as everyone else, many of whom remained captivated by the pokémon battle currently ongoing. A Hydreigon was duking it against a Haxorus with all its might, blasting bolts of Dragon Pulse attacks, while the Haxorus tried blitzing closer to lay a devastating Dragon Claw attack on its opponent.

The only reason she knew all these attacks was because the announcer was relaying these attacks in play-by-plays, which brought a small smile to Shay's face. It was just like in basketball or football, a panel of emcees and guest panelists were essentially giving their viewers a play-by-play of what was going on with the players, the coach, the benched team members...

That was something she could relate to. Growing up watching the Lakers in her home, and then later participating in Fantasy Football events at work weren't too far off from what she was watching now. It was still strange to equate human sports to pokémon battles, live and in the flesh or on television in this matter, but she was adjusting. It created a heart-fluttering excitement inside of her, as she constantly had to remind herself that she was living through something that someone else from her home universe would _kill_ for.

 _And thankfully I'm well away out of their warpath,_ she thought glibly and with another smile. It fell away quickly at the unbidden thought that followed up. _So why am I not out there, gettin' some? Roaming around with my own team, causing a ruckus, going after the Champion of this region?_

Wasn't that how the games went? The player started off as a nobody and become a nightmarish someone for everyone who got in their way, including the team villains, League members, and Champion alike?

 _But this isn't a game, is it? And yet…what are the chances, I was playing_ Alpha Sapphire _the last night I spent home, and I end up in Hoenn?_

It was a repeating contemplation she kept revisiting, time and time again. It was something she'd never get the answers to, no matter how hard she thought on it. She could only come to her own assumptions...even if she also knew that it'd drive her up the fucking wall. Even when those same thoughts had come to her in the past, she tried to brush them aside, to tell herself that it wasn't meant to be, that someone else was meant to come along and do something. Who did she think she was, believing that she could simply slide into the player character's place, anyways. That role belonged to Norman's late daughter. Not to her. With every passing day, however, it was becoming harder to push those thoughts aside. If she sat on her ass and waited for someone else to do something, then it might be too late to get her back home in the end.

 _So, what am I still doing, debating this shit,_ she suddenly thought, stopping mid-chew. She hadn't really considered the idea of striking out on her own as a trainer, despite the excitement she always got when she played her games. Especially the new ones. There was always that electrifying moment when she sat there, rushing through dialogue and cutscenes in order to get to the part where she could pick her starter, and start her gaming adventure, grinding it out to level her team up and challenge everyone in her path…

 _But now this is real, it's all real. Why shouldn't I take advantage of that…?_

A eureka moment struck her moments later. She should talk to Professor Birch on the matter, see what she'd need to do to become a trainer. Perhaps there were sped-up courses she could take. The sooner she took them, the better. And then…and then she could become a trainer, travel, have battles…become the Champion. Travel to Sinnoh. Find the Creation Trio and wrangle them into submission, send everyone back home and bring home everyone that went missing.

 _Hopefully pokémon don't die horribly in battles like in Nuzlocke stories and they just faint like in the games,_ she added as an afterthought with a mild grimace. Remembering her place, she schooled her face into neutrality before it quickly morphed into anticipation when the Haxorus landed a critical hit on the Hydreigon, knocking it down, heavy and hard. The referee on the field was moving in, the announcer babbling away excitedly. The Hydreigon was laboriously pulling itself to its feet, its trainer yelling encouragement from her side of the battlefield. The crowd in the stadium were a mixed result of jeers and cheers. The restaurant, on the other hand, were jeering.

This puzzled Shay, as she stared at the various faces of the patrons as they booed and hissed at the camera as it focused on the Hydreigon.

"Why don't we like the Hydreigon, again?"

"What, you don't know?" Jacob cast her an incredulous look.

Shay shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

"The Hydreigon is a bit of an abomination of an evolution. Not a lot of people like it, because it's…well, it starts out cute as a Deino, and then it evolves into a Zweilous. At that point, half its brain gets split, in an effort to compensate for the growth of its second head. After that, it's…nightmarish, to say the least. Severe mood swings, loss of control on the trainer's part, evolutionary hazards, things like that." Jacob started off, a grimace pulling at his features. "When it finally hits the last stage, a third head sprouts, but all the brain power reverts back to the central head, and the other two are just mindless appendages that have two goals in mind: eat and destroy, at the whims and will of the brain and head at the center. They're notoriously difficult to control at that late stage because of this. Many inexperienced and even experienced trainers have suffered an injury of some sort attempting to train and control a Hydreigon. Those that do have a semblance of control…they don't exactly have the best intentions in mind for those that end up in their warpaths." Jacob wrinkled his nose and he shuddered visibly. "At least Haxorus is able to be trained without the mental issues plaguing them. It's actually kind of sad, on the Hydreigon's part, I mean. It's not their fault they fell into bottom of the barrel when it comes to that kind of evolutionary line. It just seems cruel to keep them around at this point, wild or otherwise."

Shay had nothing to say on the matter, considering she couldn't recall any game data entries, since she's had never had the experience in training one, in-game. Either way, it sounded kind of horrible to hear. The implications that Jacob offered, one of wiping out a singular species of pokémon, was also shocking to say the least. And judging from the looks on most of the patrons in the restaurant, she was certain they would agree on the matter.

 _Things are different here,_ she reminded herself. _What I think I know doesn't apply completely and utterly to what's established here._

So, she sat there, somewhat disturbed with the information Jacob provided, and for the rest of evening, they sat and munched away on their food, watching the battles unfold on the television. Her three companions got riled up over who they were rooting for, and lost track of time as the hours wore on. Shay ended up ordering a fruity alcoholic drink that tasted not that dissimilar to a Bahama Mama. By the time they were all ready to go, Shay, predictably, had leftovers by the end of things, while everyone else ate a majority of their food. Her family always said her eyes were bigger than her stomach.

 _Probably why I always teetered with the BCP program back home…_

At least she didn't have to worry about getting up early and working out. She didn't have to worry about someone with more rockers on their collars giving her a stern look, saying she needed to "bulk up". Not here. Here, she could at the very least enjoy the leisure downtime she had a sudden excess of.

The drive back was quieter than the drive in. Conversation was minimal as they drove in the dark back to Littleroot. Judging by the atmosphere in the car, Shay assumed everyone was simply too tired and full from dinner to keep up a conversation. When she glanced over at Meryl sitting beside her, the other woman was already snoozing away, her head resting against the door. Brendan's head lolled against his chest and in between the quiet lulls between songs from the radio, she could hear the young man snoring, ever so quietly.

Shay, in the meantime, turned over the conversation she wanted to have with Professor Birch in her head, tweaking this sentence or that word, attempting to sculpt it so that it worked out in her favour by the end. She hoped it ended in her favour, at least. She'd have no idea how he'd react. She had a slightly better read on him than she did of Norman, so she had that working in her favour. Hopefully.

Shay finally concluded that the most she could do was meet up with Professor Birch, get through her spiel tomorrow, and hope for the best.

* * *

She woke up jittery and full of nervous energy. She had barely been able to sleep thanks to the decision she had committed herself to. She didn't even bother eating breakfast, she could only find her stomach was fit for her usual round of coffee. After that, she had no reason to stay indoors and made her way to the pokémon lab. She was early, she found out, and not even Jacob or Meryl had come in to open the doors. Their schedules varied on whether or not they pulled all-nighters and stayed at the lab, or if they went home to sleep and rest up for the next day. It was obvious based on last night's dinner out that it was the latter rather than the former. Professor Birch was always in and out as well, so it was hard to keep track of his comings and goings. He was, however, here some mornings often enough to open the doors, if Jacob and Meryl weren't here already.

So, she sat outside, waiting with a book in hand, although she could barely process the words on the pages. She found herself reading the same paragraph three or four times over before she gave up and began pacing around instead, occasionally sipping from her collapsible thermos.

Jacob pulled up in his car ten minutes later, with Meryl riding in the passenger seat. They offered their good morning salutations to Shay and noted how early she was. Shay merely shrugged, trying not to appear excitable. Not yet.

"I didn't take quite as long getting ready," she simply offered, which was a half-truth.

"It's strange, usually Professor Birch is here first before us, to open the doors and get some supplies before heading into the field. Or to compile his data." Meryl noted as she pulled a set of keys from her bag. She unlocked the door as Jacob came jogging up the path to the door, greeting Shay a second time. She nodded back and followed Meryl inside, tucking her book into her armpit as she went. The lab was cooler inside, and Shay shivered in response. She immediately took another sip of her coffee, relishing the taste of it on her tongue.

"Yeah, that's true…unless he stayed out all night again. What a bum," Jacob groused back, running a hand through his black hair. "You know what that means, right?"

Meryl grumbled as they came to a halt. Shay did the same, sidestepping Jacob so she didn't run into him. She took another sip of coffee.

"What exactly does him staying in the field mean, again?" Shay drawled to the other two. Meryl glanced at her.

"Oh, right. You don't know, do you?" At Shay's shake of the head, Meryl continued. "Whenever Professor Birch does this, one of us has to go find him and drag him back to the lab. Just long enough to resupply or get some sleep on a real mattress or get some food and take a shower. Whichever he feels drawn to first. We usually try to limit his supplies on purpose so that he doesn't go too far from the lab, since he has to equalize his time here and out in the field." Meryl explained with a sigh. "That usually means going outside town, and that's where the wild pokémon are. We like our controlled lab-settings, thank you, and keeping our distance from being on the receiving end of a pokémon's attack."

"Why don't you take one of the lab pokémon, then?"

"I suck at battling, and so does Jacob." Meryl said flatly, earning her a disgruntled noise from Jacob.

"I don't _suck_ at battling, I just don't like to do it…"

"Oh, please. He sucks at it, don't let him tell you otherwise, sweetie. And besides, we can't use the lab pokémon when Professor Birch goes on his overnight research benders."

"Oh." A beat passed before the implications hit Shay fully. " _Ohhh_. He takes them with him?"

"For protection, sure. He brings them back, heals them up, gets them fed, all of that. But still, we worry for the little guys. They're meant for novice trainers starting out their journey. Like, for example, what Brendan should be doing. He's wasting his full potential on small-fry assignments for his father, no offense to the professor. I just think his skills in both battle and field research could be combined beautifully."

"You ever seen Brendan battle?" Shay asked, incredulous.

"Oh, sure, plenty of times. But like I said, he wastes his potential."

"Brendan's choosing to do so, by the way, so don't feel too bad for him." Jacob added, wagging a finger behind Meryl.

Shay mulled on all of this information, slowly turning it over and then filing it away for later scrutiny.

"That brings us to the dilemma of who's going to go get him," Jacob started again, checking his watch with a long-suffering sigh. "If he stayed up all night, he's probably conked out right about now, so it's gonna take a while—"

"I'll do it."

Jacob and Meryl stared at Shay, not quite comprehending her words at first. She repeated herself and they turned to look at one another. Slow smiles spread across their faces. On any other given occasion, Shay would have thought herself having been bamboozled into volunteering, but this was not one of those times. This was actually quite perfect. She could talk to Professor Birch alone, without eavesdroppers listening in on her conversation. A conversation that wasn't meant for those not in the know about her current situation should hear.

Before she knew it, she was given directions to the area Professor Birch had last staked a claim for his field research, and off she went. Not even a quarter of the way there, she finished off her coffee. There was a coffee shop just on the edge of town, however, close enough to where she needed to go to find Professor Birch, and she swung by there, the _Bagon Bean Shop_ , with a cartoonish Bagon as its logo, hugging a large coffee bean in its little stubby limbs. There was a moderately long line inside the shop, but the orders were brewed up quickly and efficiently.

Norman has made it a habit to leave Shay with some money before he returned to the Petalburg gym after his every visit. It was almost like having an allowance all over again. However, Shay has remained rather frugal with her funds, knowing she had limitations to her choice of shopping. Coffee, however, was a "treat yo' self" moment of weakness she couldn't resist. Within a few minutes, she was out with her thermos filled up once more and piping hot. The faint scent of caramel and strong espresso wafted from it, giving Shay tingles of anticipation all along her spine and the back of her neck.

The edge of Littleroot was in sight when she rounded the corner of the last residential neighborhood. The forest lay ahead on either side of the road out of Littleroot, its plaintive trees scattered at the edges, and clumping together further on in. She could see between the trunks, the blue-green shadows mixing with early golden sunlight. Light and shadow played with one another, wavering, undulating, like she was gazing into an aquarium rather than a forest. It created a serene little scene to look at, with the occasional flying-type pokémon dipping in and out of sight, too quick to identify. The road out of Littleroot was empty of any foot traffic. She was the only one out there. It was strangely soothing to watch.

She stopped at the threshold of the road leading out of town, right on the border of the small forest, staring down the path until it disappeared around a bend further on down. She swept her gaze back and forth to check the trees on either side of the road. She lingered only a little longer, then pushed forward down the road.

 _Let's see…Jacob and Meryl said that he's just a little ways down the road and just within sight of it inside the forest…but how far is 'a little ways'? A quarter of a mile? A whole mile? Shit. I should've asked. Maybe I'll see his camp just fine from the road, like they said. Guess I'll just have to keep going._

Luckily enough, she didn't have far to go before she heard the yelling, intermingling with the mixed chorus of howls and barks. It sent a jolt down her spine and she stopped dead in her tracks, straining to hear where it was coming from. She saw the movement long before she pinpointed where the noise was coming from. Something large and humanoid was streaking through the trees, heading straight for the road, running as though something was chasing them.

Even from a distance, Shay could recognize Professor Birch. It wasn't until he was out in the clear that his pursuers were revealed, pouring from the underbrush like ants from the woodwork was a pack of Poochyena.

They snapped at Professor Birch's heels, baying like bloodhounds on the trail of a most wanted prize, their little legs rapidly propelling them after the sturdy man. He nearly tripped over one of the Poochyena in his attempts to get away, and with his arms pinwheeling, he dropped something. The pack had no interest in the object, and continued chasing after him. None of them seemed to notice her as she shuffled closer and Shay saw what it was that the professor had dropped; it was his satchel. It tumbled over itself once and laid still where it landed, undisturbed, as the chase continued.

She watched this all unfold, as though it were going on in slow motion, and for a moment, she had a funny little thought skitter across her head: _twenty seconds of courage. That's all it takes. Twenty seconds to do something courageous. And stupid. I should probably do that right now, huh?_

Shay darted forward, giving chase after the pack and Professor Birch. The professor glanced over his shoulder, perhaps to scope out how close the Poochyena were to nipping at his heels, when he spotted Shay making a beeline for him. He waved wildly at her and shouted, "My bag! The lab pokémon are in my bag!"

She nearly toppled over in her attempts to stop. Shay's eyes darted between the pack and the professor, to the satchel lying prone on the ground. She juked to the side, diving for the bag while her thermos went tumbling out of her hand, forgotten, and it popped open, spilling its contents all over the ground. She wrestled the bag open and stared at a mess of notes stuffed to the brim inside but buried beneath loose sheets and journals—there they were, three pristine pokéballs, their gleaming red-and-white casings ripe for the picking. Emblems of a green leaf, a yellow flame, and a blue water droplet were impressed upon the surface of each. She dove a hand downwards for the yellow flame, eyes tearing away to assess what was going on, trying to ignore the war drum beating of her heart, the racing of her pulse and the roar of blood rushing along in her ears. Professor Birch was being backed into the trunk of an especially large and impressive tree further down the road. The Poochyena were closing in and ready to leap.

"C'mon Torchic!" She shouted, letting the pokéball fly into the air. A rush of excitement surged through her when the words tore from her throat. As the energy shot out of the split pokéball and the radiating light coalesced into a form, her excitement turned into withering bafflement.

"Mudkip?!"

 _Oh, no. I must have grabbed the wrong one!_ She had thought she'd grabbed Torchic's pokéball!

The blue-hued pokémon shook himself, waiting for his next orders. His little tailfin quivered in anticipation, his back curved into an arch as he spotted the pack closing in in Professor Birch.

"Hurry it up, I don't think I have all day!" Professor Birch yelled, his voice an octave higher than usual. Shay faltered, halfway reaching back for the satchel, before she shook herself. _Whatever, let's just get this done!_

"Okay, Mudkip, tackle attack!"

The Mudkip ran forward and leapt, hurling himself into the pack. Several of the Poochyena went flying, while the others jumped out of the way. Mudkip jumped back to his feet, his tailfin waggling excitedly.

"Water gun attack! Blow them away!"

The Mudkip reacted almost instantly, a gush of water spewing out of his open mouth and sprayed any pack members who strayed too close. They turned tail and ran in fright and shock, yowling the entire time. The others who lingered weren't long in following their packmates and quickly retreated on speedy little legs, disappearing back into the forest's underbrush.

Mudkip huffed, slowly lifting himself from his battle stance and when he was sure no other attacks were to come, he came trotting back over to Shay. He gazed up at her, head tilting curiously to the side and for a moment…it almost seemed like a brief haze of sadness welled up in the Mudkip's eyes. The moment passed, however, when Birch came limping over, looking incredibly relieved. Mudkip twirled on his paws to regard the stout man, tailfin waggling once more.

"Holy shit, you came in the nick of time. Poochyena usually don't attack people when they're alone, but in a pack, they get pretty bold. Thanks a lot, Shay," he panted as he grinned widely at her. "You sure handled yourself pretty well back there. Have you ever battled before?"

Shay stared at him, the shock and adrenaline of the battle still coursing through her. Now that it passed, her hands were shaking, and it was difficult to make them stop. She hid them in her jacket pockets instead and shook her head.

"Not really, but I've kind of always wanted to," she answered vaguely, avoiding his excited gaze. She glanced at the Mudkip again, but his back was turned to her, his focus solely on Birch. He bent over to scoop up Mudkip, who was wriggling in excitement.

"Did I do good? Did I, did I?!" He pawed at Birch's face, and the man laughed. Shay doubted he understood the Mudkip's words, but he understood the pokémon's excited intent.

"Easy, little guy, I get you had a good time! You did a great job!" Professor Birch turned his attention back on Shay, offering her a wide grin. "As did you. You really saved my ass back there."

"Why didn't you just…battle them yourself? You had three pokémon on hand."

Birch's smile turned nervous and embarrassed as he scratched the back of his head with his free hand. "To be honest, I'm no Samuel Oak when it comes to pokémon; I'm a decent battler, sure, when I have to be, but…I don't quite think in those terms when it comes to fight or flight. I'm more of an observer than I am a fighter."

"Seriously?" She deadpanned, which only earned her another series of nervous laughs.

"Yeah, seriously. Norman was always better than me at battling and on-hands experience, but I was always better than him when it came to pokémon knowledge and aptitude tests. It's why he ended up a gym leader, and why I ended up a professor of the Hoenn region!"

"You knew Norman since you were kids?" Shay remarked in astonishment. Birch nodded, reaching to pat Mudkip gently on the back out of habit.

"Yep, since we were little toddlers, actually. He left in his early twenties to go exploring Kanto and Johto, and that's…that's where he met his late wife, actually…" Birch's cheery demeanor went down several notches and he sighed heavily, shoulders slumping.

"Anyway…I think that it's time we head on back, before those Poochyena regroup and think about coming back around with more pack members. Oh, shit—my gear—" He started off back toward where he had fled the forest from, but the moment he winced and cursed after putting his full weight on his injured leg, Shay waved him off.

"I'll grab it."

Birch hesitated, a protest on his lips, before he stopped himself and exhaled loudly through his nostrils.

"Don't worry about cleaning up, it's already all packed up. Here, Mudkip, go with her, just in case."

The Mudkip dithered in Birch's arm, but eventually gathered himself and jumped to the ground, trotting after Shay. She glanced at the little pokémon at her side, noting how he wouldn't even look at her. He took off ahead of her, rushing into the underbrush, and she had to jog after him.

"Hey, wait up!"

He didn't answer or slow down, he simply kept on going, until they reached the campsite not far from the road. Mudkip settled atop a log seat set by a pile of ashes and half-burnt tinder, the fire having long since been put out. He sprayed the top of it all, as though for good measure.

"Hey, you gotta wait up, you can't just go off like that."

"You're not my trainer."

Shay was taken aback by the stinging comment, but she refused to let it get to it. She had tougher skin than that.

"Well, apparently neither is Professor Birch, but I doubt he'd want something bad to happen to you, all the same." She said breezily back. The Mudkip seemed to consider this while looking sullenly into the wet ashes. Shay sighed, turning her attention to scanning the campsite and locating the camping pack Birch had left behind. It was large and cumbersome, even for just a one-night stay in the woods. She managed to get it up onto her back after a minute of fiddling around and hunched over, pulling at the straps to tighten them up.

"Hey," she called to Mudkip. He looked up at her, still wearing that sullen expression on his little face. "For what it's worth, you did a really great job about there. I'm proud of you, just like the professor is."

She gave him a genuine smile, and the Mudkip stared, flabbergasted with his mouth popping open. He leapt off the log and came trotting over to her side. He appeared happier than moments before when he looked up at her.

"C'mon, let's go. The professor is waiting."

* * *

Shay collapsed on her bed, her shoulders and hips still aching, even after the entire day had passed. Birch's pack had been heavy, but she had insisted on carrying it, since the man had sprained his ankle in his short chase with the Poochyena pack. He had fretted over her carrying it, but she waved his concerns away vehemently, stubbornly shouldering the thing and carrying on.

He continued to fret the entire way back to Littleroot, and only fell quiet as they trekked their way through town back to the lab. When they reached the front walkway, he had asked her, "You've done this before, haven't you?"

Shay allowed a faint smirk to cross her lips.

"More or less, yeah. It takes me awhile, but I can hike with the best of them."

He didn't say much after that. As soon as they were through the doors, he asked her to drop the pack by his office door, returned Mudkip back to his pokéball, and then told her to take the rest of the day off. It was Friday, and when she pointed that out, he simply added on the weekend for good measure, and told her he'd see her on Monday. When she protested, he held up a hand and she fell silent.

"You did me a great favour, coming out there and helping me out. If it had been Jacob or Meryl…they probably wouldn't have fared as well. They're decent, but they tend to freeze up half the time."

"This…this wasn't the first time this has happened?"

Birch laughed and shook his head. "God, no. It's happened a few times, if I'm being honest. But this was one of the worse-off encounters I've had in a long time. Last time this happened, a trainer from Johto accidentally mistook me for a pokémon and had their Totodile try to take a chunk out of my ass."

He laughed like crazy at that, and showed her the scar on his left calf, where the pokémon had bitten him. She noted a collection of other scars but refrained from asking about them. Apparently, he was no stranger to getting hurt. It didn't make her feel any better. After that, he had dismissed her once more and refused to hear a word from her about the matter.

"Go relax. You earned it, for coming to get my sorry ass, and for carrying my pack like that," he had added dismissively, and that was the last of it. She was turned out at the door, left with the rest of her day. She ended up moseying back to Norman's place, cleaned up her poor thermos, and returned to the _Bagon Coffee Bean_ for another drink. She spent the rest of the morning there, reading from the book she'd left at the lab before she went to fetch Birch.

This time she managed to make it through a couple of chapters. When her attention began to stray, she left the coffee shop and wandered Littleroot, ending up at a small local restaurant, mostly watching people and pokémon alike as she nibbled at her food. She attempted to take a crack at the book again, although the words ended up swimming around on the page. She gave that effort up and watched the world pass her by without really realizing it until it was beginning to grow dark. She headed back to Norman's place, heated up some leftovers and retreated to the couch to watch a little television. This time around, she sampled some of the aquatic exploration documentaries that spanned several oceanic regions.

The narrator speculated heavily on the existence of a pod of Lugia living amongst the Whirl Islands in Johto, but ultimately, there was a typical no-show of anything concrete. It was like those shows back home speculating monster and ghost hunters, leaning heavily on local legends as possible fact, focusing greatly on civilian recordings or photographs that are found to be fake and doctored, and ultimately, no shows of the episode or show's leading monster.

It was essentially _Ancient Aliens_ , but without the aliens.

" _But,_ " the narrator continued, his voice rather soothing and sonorous as he spoke, " _there is rumour of a trainer who may have captured one of these 'guardians of the sea', although we haven't been able to track this mysterious person down quite yet nor confirm if these rumours to be true. Lugia are incredibly rare and keeping tabs on the full extent of their populations and migratory patterns are difficult._ "

"Of-fucking-course you haven't." Shay snorted, her disappointment souring her expectations of the rest of the show. She had been hopeful to see a living Lugia. Instead, she got ancient drawings and artist renderings of the creature. She eventually changed the channel to the local news channel. The news anchors were in the middle of a puff piece regarding the rising popularity of pokémon contests in Hoenn, and at the moment, a rather fashionably dressed Pikachu was slaying in the Novice Cute Contest it was entered in over at Slateport. She switched it to another channel and she paused herself from flipping it once more as she squinted at the television screen.

As she set the remote down, she started getting into the film. It had only just started. And the more she watched…the more familiar it became. A bunch of kids and their pokémon finding a treasure map in an attic, the threat of their neighborhood being demolished to serve as a luxury golf course, a race to an old pirate ship using the map while avoiding shady criminals and death traps in the seaside caverns beneath the town…

Halfway through, she leapt to her feet and screeched at the top of her lungs, "IT'S THE FUCKING _GOONIES_ WITH POKÉMON!"

The rest was history. She ended up enjoying the movie a little bit more with that meaningful, if rather small, connection she had just made in that moment alone. It was about as fun as _The Goonies_ she knew originally was, except of course, this one had pokémon in the mix. And their mascot was a Zigzagoon. It made her somewhat miss Bandit's company.

When the film ended, she went upstairs to her room and collapsed onto the bed, finally feeling the ache of her shoulders and her hips especially. She hadn't carried Birch's pack for long, but it was reminiscent to the hikes she's had to endure in the past with all her military gear. She held onto those aches, those pains, held onto the familiarity it brought to her. When she found motivation to get back up again, she headed for the shower, lingering until the hot water turned to ice against her back. When she was changed, Shay took her dirty laundry down the hall to the alcove where the washing machine lay hidden behind a sliding door. Her left hip gave a painful twinge in protest as she straightened herself out. It lingered for much longer than the rest of her aches and she hissed, holding her breath, waiting for it to pass before she dared to move again.

"Chriiiiiiist on a fucking crutch," she moaned as she tested her weight on her leg, limping toward her bedroom. "Two fucking surgeries on you, and you're still fucking me over like this? That's unsat, you stupid hip. I should've had you replaced."

She ended up limping for the rest of the night, muttering curses at her hip, curses at Professor Birch for effectively sending her away for the rest of the weekend, and mostly at herself for forgetting to talk to the man about how she could become a trainer.

* * *

 _ **Extra Notes**_ **: Can you imagine** _ **The Goonies**_ **with pokémon? I think it'd be amazing. On another note, having surgery on my hip, twice in as little as three years apart from another, truly sucks. Pile on top of that with some degenerative arthritis, it really is only a matter of time before I might have to have it replaced.**

 **Some more Marine terms! Or in this case, just one, with a bit of discourse attached to it.**

 _ **Unsat**_ **: Short of "unsatisfactory". Sometimes we Marines tend to shorten words. It can either have the most meaning in the world or none at all as to why that is, and good luck figuring out which.**

 _ **BCP**_ **: Body Composition Program. It's redundant we call it the BCP program (since the P represents 'program') but I digress. In a few words, it's meant for Marines who are over their acceptable weight and height standards, or alternatively, those who are under it. The former are more often encountered than the latter. I was the latter. My height standard (59 inches) required I stay in a weight standard from 94 pounds minimum and 124 pounds being my maximum before I was considered "out of regulation". I more than often weighed in at about 86 pounds, which dropped me out of regulations, and actually put me in with BCP Marines. This meant I had to "bulk up" to gain weight. The problem with "bulking up" is that the program doesn't necessarily tackle the necessary approaches to help people who lose weight faster than they gain it, to well…keep the weight on.**

 **For Marines over their max weight for their height standard were expected to lose weight because they are considered "fat bodies". This aspect of the program was covered in more extensive detail and was more or less tailored to this aspect than for those who were considered "underweight". Here's the discourse on that matter.**

 **The problem with that mindset is, the Marine Corps uses the taping measurement standard. I won't get into that, other than it's the cheapest and most inaccurate standard of measurement and I say this because there were Marines who were extremely fit and all their weight was muscle, not fat. But because when they weighed in and were over their set standard, on paper this made them seem as though they were "overweight". This meant they had to lose weight, somehow, and they were forced to exercise…even though by the Marine Corps mindset, they needed to lose weight (remember, kiddos…muscle is heavier than fat!). The redundancy of this mindset has really fucked some Marines over, and I have seen it done to them, as I worked on and off in the training section from time to time, so I grew somewhat intimate in familiarity with the orders regarding this stuff.**

 **There have also been multiple reports of Marines across the Corps who were extremely fit, passed all their fitness and combat tests with perfect scores, and were still considered "fat bodies" despite their muscled and fit physiques, and they also fit their uniforms accordingly without looking slobby (this is a secondary condition that is needed to be considered: does the Marine also look good in their uniform?). It's an incredibly touchy, up-hill battle of a subject for those people on that end of the spectrum. It doesn't help that the height and weight standard are completely outdated, especially with the way we measure it.**

 **For me and my skinny ass…I have an incredibly fast metabolism that processes food more quickly than others (which I absolutely hate, don't be fooled by my rail thin weight), so I always fell below the acceptable weight standard for my height, and was put in with BCP Marines, despite the fact that I passed all my fitness and combat tests in the first-class standard, every time without ever bordering second class or worse. The leaders were only covering their asses, and I can respect and understand that, but it didn't mean I accepted their bullshit reasons. Then again, most of them didn't either. It was just a matter of following regulation, and some of my superiors were rigid in following the rules and wouldn't bend for anyone. They were more worried about their own image and how their juniors would reflect on them.**

 **The Marine Corps is difficult in recognizing fluctuating dimorphism when it comes to the height and weight standards and of differing body types, and making exceptions for those who clearly don't conform to the "absolute standard" in spite of their perfect fitness is a pain in the ass. All in all, it's an entire subject that I've heard many a Marine bitch about.**


	6. Chapter Five: Best Laid Plans

**Chapter Five:  
Best Laid Plans**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: Apologies for another delayed update. Last weekend I was out of town completely. Midterms are coming up, so my attention has also been diverted towards those this weekend. Glad I managed to drop this before Monday morning hit. I'm trying to remain on a Sunday update, in case it hasn't become apparent or noticeable!**

 **Please, enjoy this new chapter!**

* * *

" _Things didn't go exactly as planned, but I'm not dead, so it's a win."  
_ **-Mark Watney, "** _ **The Martian**_ **" by Andy Weir**

* * *

"What in the hell have you done?"

Norman knew what he was seeing, but he couldn't exactly believe it to be true. Two packs, each equal in size and gear, with what he assumed to be identical equipment and supplies packed inside. They sat side by side in Birch's office, innocuous and waiting…waiting for what, Norman had to wonder, although he had an inkling of an idea.

It was not an idea he was thrilled at entertaining.

He diverted his attention back on his old friend, having a hard time swallowing past the dry lump in his throat.

"Whatever do you mean, Norman?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Birch. It isn't becoming of you at all. What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I have two up-and-coming trainers who are going to embark on their journey, and soon I might add, so I thought I'd wrestle up some gear for the two of 'em."

"You never 'wrestle up' anything other than the required starter pokémon and some pokéballs for any trainers starting out."

"You forgot the pokédex."

Norman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of course. Because the pokédex is the central concern here."

"Actually, Norm…it kind of is."

Norman peeped his eyes open to peer up at Birch. His old friend looked less concerned with cracking wise and more for getting down to business now. Birch turned on his heel to grab something off his desk and revealed what it was: a newly enhanced, upgraded, updated pokédex.

"I don't have much luck with trainers reporting back to me with their pokédex progress. They're not obligated. It's not mandatory for them, it's not how the system's set up here. And I can't get back out there like I used to, like I'd _like_ _to_ , not when I'm stuck close to the home front like this all the time. Or I'm away at conferences and summits, presenting my research. I'd send Meryl or Jacob out in the field, but they're honestly hopeless with battling—"

"I'm going to guess that you have a point to all of this," Norman interjected impatiently. Birch smiled.

"All right, all right, no bullshit. You know I hate bullshitters and I hate bullshitting myself. The honest truth is…I think Brendan's been getting antsy lately. I think he's working himself up to ask if he can go out further, to help me with my research. But I also know he probably wants to go on a journey for his own sake, not just for mine." Birch chuckled. "And it's not exactly a secret that my assistants have been goading him into going for a while now, either."

"And the other pack?" Norman drawled. He really didn't like where this was going. It made his guts twist into all sorts of knots at the most likely of answers. As far as he knew, there were no children or young adults within Littleroot gearing up to start their journey. None that were qualified or interested in going, at the very least, none to his knowledge. Birch took in a deep breath, prepping himself.

"Shay should go as well."

A beat passed between them. Then, "Are you quite _literally_ _insane_? She knows nothing about the world around us! She's a literal outsider of-of _everything_! Our way of life, about pokémon—the world over!"

"Exactly!" Birch exclaimed, beaming. Norman stared at him, flabbergasted. All the heat and fire in his argument was snuffed out like a candle in the face of a persistent breeze.

"I'm…I'm not following."

He didn't like that excited gleam in his friend's eyes. Not at all.

"Think about it; we have lived with pokémon all our lives. Lived and breathed the entire norms of experiencing them from the moment we were born. But Shay—she'll be experiencing it for the first time in her life. The whole world will be laid out at her feet! She'll get to experience the dazzle of battle, the thrill of discovering a new pokémon in a new region—"

"Are you planning to exploit her situation for your research?"

"What? No! Well…not really. Look—Brendan is going to be my control variable of this, and Shay—"

"Shay's supposed to be the experimental half of things?"

Birch wilted, much like a flowering plant in the face of a sweltering heatwave. "Stealing my thunder, man…but in a sense, yes. But you do realize that I'm not sending them out into the wilderness unprotected, right?"

"Giving Brendan a pokémon to start his own journey is one thing. He's learned how to battle, he's learned about pokémon in school, he _knows_ this world better because _he grew up in it_ , he was _born_ _into_ _it_. Shay, on the other hand, has no idea how to handle herself in a pokémon battle, trainer-conducted or wild!"

"Wrong. She does, Norman. I witnessed it just a few days ago. She was cool as a cucumber, completely in control! She handled Mudkip like a natural…although, she did mistake the little guy for Torchic, but I'm guessing she mistook the sigils on the pokéballs, because I had all three of the lab pokémon with me at the time…" Birch trailed off, then waved off his scattered thoughts. "Not the point. Look, the point is…I think she's got what it takes. Same as Brendan."

"That could have been a fluke. You can't base your judgement on just one chance encounter…"

"You didn't see what I saw, Norman. She handled herself like a professional, like she'd been doing it her whole life, like…like we did, when we were kids. I don't know how to explain it, but I think she's got what it takes. She's got that fire in her to go far. If you'd quit looking at her like the daughter you lost and stop trying to shield her from the world she's stuck in, you'd…"

Birch fell very quiet, realizing what he'd said. Norman found it difficult to speak, and instead glared icily at the man sitting across from him. Birch dropped his gaze, looking abashed and began to rub the back of his head.

"Sorry, man. That was uncalled for. I shouldn't have done that, I…I'm sorry. I didn't really mean that."

Norman didn't realize he'd clenched his fists at his sides so tightly until he had to forcible release the tension in his hands. He breathed slowly to calm himself, to soothe the heat and anger that was welling up in his chest and waited until he could talk without feeling the urge to yell until his throat hurt. There was quiet in the air that hung between them. For a whole minute, they said nothing to each other, waiting on the other to break the silence.

"I don't know what you think you see when we are seen together, but I know she isn't May. She will never be May. I lost my daughter, and Shay isn't some… _replacement_. She never will be. But I care about what happens to her, because if I don't, nobody else will."

"I know. I know. I…I crossed a line, Norman. But…we can't keep her holed up in this place for forever. She just doesn't strike me as the type who wants to just…sit around, waiting for a solution to come her way by chance."

Norman sighed heavily, can't help but smile at the other man's comment. "To be frank, I get that same feeling from her."

"See? I'm actually afraid that if we don't send her on her way with our blessing, she'll just up and go off on her own, supplies and protection be damned."

"Again…I get that same feeling." Norman conceded grudgingly, and he laughed. He almost couldn't believe he was laughing, not even five minutes before he just had white-hot rage flashing across his vision and coursing through his veins.

"So, I'm guessing it won't matter what protests I might have against this, you're going to go forward with sending her off?"

"No, no. It's ultimately her choice, but I think we both know what she's going to choose."

"What happens when I report this back to the League?"

Birch's mouth snapped shut, whatever smart ass remark he had lined up falling short. His smile vanished. A sour look took place of his previously optimistic one. Norman rolled a hand.

"I can't _not_ report to them on her wellbeing. Steven's orders."

"Yeah, the orders of a man who hasn't dropped by once to check on her himself."

"Busy man. Humour me. What happens then?"

"By then, she'll hopefully already be well on her way. Nothing they can do, except pretend she's another person traveling with her team of faithful pokémon. Or, you know, they try to hunt her down, but I doubt they'd do that. It'd draw too much attention."

"It's not that simple."

Birch frowned. "Perhaps. But they don't know what she looks like, do they?"

Norman was silent at first. "No," he finally admitted. "They don't. I haven't provided them with much description, other than that she was a young woman in her mid-twenties. That could be anybody in their eyes. And that brings me to the next problem…how can we even register her as a trainer?"

To this, Birch beamed at him and that devious twinkle was back in his eyes. "I'm not exactly proud of this…"

 _Liar_ , thought Norman without an inkling of menace.

"But I know a couple of guys who do some…questionable work on the side of their day jobs and they could wrangle something up for her. They owe me a few favours. Figured I can cash one in for this. Should see her ID card come in sometime today."

Norman considered this, pondering over what else there could be that might come along and tear this entire thing apart. Birch seemed to read his mind on the matter and he laughed.

"Look, just leave all the details to me! I know the ins and outs of preparing a trainer for registration and getting them started on their journey. You just handle the pokémon battling. That's what you gym guys do best, isn't it?"

He wanted to refute Birch's words, but damn it all, the man was right. Any details Norman wasn't thinking of, Birch probably already has and had already taken care of it or was in the process of doing so. He probably had a way of squeaking everything through, right under the League's nose. On the one hand, he could report this all to the League, and to Steven, and put an end to it all. But on the other hand...he could feign ignorance. Turn a blind eye to it all. Say she up and left during his stay in Petalburg at the gym. And since there aren't many applicants who could potentially fill in his spot as gym leader, there was no way he could tenably close the gym down for a lengthy period of time or turn it over to someone else just to keep Shay under lock and key and watchful eye.

If Steven wanted that done, he'd either have to do it himself or have someone else do it for him. Norman couldn't, under a good conscious, turn his home into a prison, to keep Shay locked up. Just because she was one of the Appeared didn't mean she was any less human than he was.

Birch was eyeing him thoughtfully but there were tinges of nervous energy brimming just beneath the surface. Waiting. Lurking. Norman finally waved a dismissive hand at the man, a sign of his blessing, and Birch leapt to his feet in victory.

"You are not going to regret this!"

"I have a feeling I already do."

"No, no, see that's the beauty of it! I'll keep her here, for an extra two weeks. I'll get her up to speed on things—a crash course of the region, battling techniques—"

"You and I both know that you're a terrible battler," Norman interrupted. Birch simply gave him the stink eye.

"Not me personally, you idiot. Of course I'm not going to do that to her! I'd be setting her up for failure. I was going to refer her to instructional videos that would assist her in that department. Stuff that Roxanne helps make for the school over in Rustboro, those kinds of videos."

"Ah. Go on."

" _Thank you_. Anyway, after I get her at least somewhat prepared with camping etiquette and tips, information on pokémon centers and markets, go through her equipment and how to use it, all that jazz…I'd send her off by next Friday. I'll send Brendan sometime this week, give them some space between starting points."

"It's a lot of information to process in less than two weeks."

"You seem to think she's a helpless little wall flower who has no clue how to haul a pack around."

"I never said that."

"Well, she took my heavy-ass pack on her back when I twisted my ankle a few days back like a goddamn champ. She's done this before, she even admitted it when I asked her. Plus, her pack won't be as heavy as mine, so she'll be able to handle hers just fine."

Norman was mildly surprised to hear this. He crossed his arms and tapped his fingers along his bicep, still teetering on the edge of things. He was mostly concerned that things would fall apart before they even began. Yet, he couldn't help but feel himself becoming infected by Birch's optimism.

 _If this works…maybe she could go all the way. If she took on the League and came out on top, she'd be able to travel more easily…maybe she'd be able to make it home, or figure out a way to get everyone including herself back where they belong._

"All right. All right. I'll tell you what. I'll give you the time you need to bring her up to speed. I'll delay reporting anything to the League for a while. Give her a head start. But I want to be in on the loop of things."

"Of course. Unlike other starting trainers, I'm mandating Brendan to give me weekly reports, since he's somewhat of a pseudo-assistant, and since Shay's _technically_ employed by me, I'll be mandating her to do the same. She'll get an x-transceiver, fresh off the market from Unova. It's nearly impossible to tamper with or break and gets fantastic reception even in the middle of a tropical storm out in the center of the damn ocean. Just wish I could've gotten one of those new Holo Casters from Kalos on such short notice. Maybe another time. Anyway, when she calls, I'll slip you updates when I get them."

Norman vaguely wondered why Birch wasn't giving Shay a PokéNav Plus but decided instead to trust Birch. He had his reasons for going out-of-region for this device. He just wasn't sure he was ready to ask him about it quite yet.

"Good…good. I…that's good."

Norman expelled a breath. Any other gripes he might have were growing far and few in between. He still wasn't quite sold on the idea…but neither was he _not_ sold on the possibility that she may up and disappear without a trace into the world, going god knows where and doing god knows what. At least this way, he'd still have an eye on her.

He just hoped it would be enough to prepare her.

* * *

The world around her was a surreal muddle of mixed emotions. Her head was still spinning. From what emotion, she wasn't entirely satisfied in pinning it down with a solitary identity quite yet. It was all too fluid for her to get a grasp on, so she let it waver and settle of its own accord. She had no interest in going through her usual routine after work. She was still coming to grips that today was even her last actual working day.

A knock at the door startled her and she flew upright, jolted out of her thoughts. Norman stood in the open doorway, leaning on the frame.

"You okay? I called you down about five minutes ago."

"Oh. No, I…I mean, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just…" She let her words drift. Her usual wit had abandoned her. She sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. "Still processing what just happened today."

"Do you…remember anything about it?"

"Yes, I do, it's just…a lot."

 _It's what I wanted, wasn't it?_

"And?"

"…you knew, didn't you? What he was planning to do."

Norman allowed a brief smile flicker across his face. "Something like that. Do you plan on accepting the challenge?"

 _It is what I wanted. I just didn't expect it to happen like this._

"Damn straight I am." Shay huffed stubbornly, feeling her resolve harden. "I appreciate you helping me, and Professor Birch too. But I just…don't want to sit on my ass, doing practically nothing to help my situation. Filing paperwork isn't going to get me closer to home, or get me an answer on how to get back."

"Do you think going out and roaming around the region will?"

Shay stared at him, dumbfounded at the sudden steel in Norman's voice. He was watching her sharply, his eyes missing nothing, a tension in his frame that she hadn't noticed until now. She suddenly felt like she was being stared down by one of her gunnery sergeants and it was…intimidating. She knew she had to consider her answer before presenting it.

"I don't…really know how to answer that," she started off honestly. "But maybe, if I get out there, I can do my own research and figure out—"

"Figure out what, exactly? The very thing that's been stumping several regions' worth of scientists and professors, the best and the brightest in the world?"

Shay clamped her mouth shut, startled at the biting tone. She wasn't long in snapping back, the stirrings of anger simmering beneath the surface.

"Well, then maybe I'll just kick everyone's ass in the League and after I'm Champion, I'll go wherever the fuck I please, no questions asked, please and thank you."

Norman stunned her by smiling instead of chastising her again. She blinked several times, as though she was seeing things and when she came to the conclusion that she was not, she simply stared.

"What's going on? Why're you smiling?"

"I just wanted to hear what you really thought. You have a habit of holding back."

"So…you wanted to hear me say that I wanted to kick your boss's ass? Are you amused by that or are you advocating the ass-kicking?"

"I'm advocating for you to be prepared for what's ahead and knowing what you want. It's going to take that kind of passion and commitment to move up the ranks and challenge the Elite Four, and our Champion. He isn't a pushover. He's been in that position for going on near ten years and counting. But, if you make it…you'd definitely have the leverage to go where you'd want to." He paused, canting his head to the side and shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "That would even mean diving headfirst into Sinnoh and all the troubles that they're experiencing."

"What happens if the Creation Trio—Palkia, Dialga, and Giratina—what if they get sealed away again? Aren't they the ones who could possibly send us back? All of us, who might have come here? And what about the people who have gone missing from here?"

All good questions, all without an answer. Norman didn't even have to verbally reply; it was all written on his face. Uncertainty. Contrition. Pity. He wouldn't even look at her directly, not anymore. Shay felt a lump growing at the back of her throat and her heart plummet at the crestfallen expression painting the older man's face. It lasted momentarily, and she forcibly swallowed back the despair that wanted to engulf her. She didn't have time feeling sorry for herself and Shay sure as shit didn't have time being pitied.

"I guess I'll have to work fast then, won't I?" She said at last, earning her an astonished stare at first, before it melted into quiet appraisal. Norman smiled.

"I suppose you will." His face grew stony once more, the air of seriousness wrapping around him once again, in the blink of an eye. "Birch told you what the rest of your next few weeks are going to be like, right?"

She recognized that their endearing moment together had come to pass, and it was back to business as usual. She nodded. "Yes. I have two weeks' worth of crash courses to get through. Pokémon battling and typing and care while on the road, first aid for them and myself, outdoor skills and utilizing tools. Basics for all that and a few other subjects."

"Good. And when you get back here, I expect you to continue studying." He motioned for her to follow him. Curious, she got up and padded after him. He led her downstairs to the living room, where he had a stack of books of various sizes sitting on the coffee table. She looked over the first title of the book on the very top of the stack: _A Beginner's Guide to Battle Tactics_ by William Wake. It was glossy and smooth, bright with newness. The centerpiece photo was that of a Bulbasaur, a Charmander, and a Squirtle standing off against one another. The Bulbasaur was shooting Razor Leaf at the Squirtle; the Squirtle was letting loose a Water Gun at the Charmander; the Charmander was releasing a well-aimed Ember at the Bulbasaur.

Full circle.

She reached for the stack and began to file through the titles, skimming the back summaries. When she finished, she cradled the books to her chest. "I'll get started tonight."

"Good. It's a lot of material and some of it tends to be repetitive, so you can skim through a few of the chapters. And Birch will probably be breezing through some of the subjects as well, so you should dig a little deeper on them for further clarification and review."

Shay had to bite her tongue on the matter. There were some subjects that Professor Birch had outlined that she knew about already, and with some intimacy. Camping, for example, was one of them.

When she had been sixteen, in the middle of spring, she had taken an entire month off from high school to go camping through a youth program called Outward Bound up in northern Minnesota. It involved quite a number of things, including making a fire using wet firewood—and for nearly the entire month, it had rained and even snowed a couple times. She had learned how to carry a canoe weighing nearly as much as herself on her shoulders through portage trails. She learned the value of 'leave no trace' while using a camping site. Nearly two years after that, she returned to the same facility to endeavor in the dogsledding venture that they offered in the wintertime. That had been grueling as well, but an eye opener on cold weather survival. In both instances, she learned how to use a map as well as using land marks to travel by.

In the military, she had to strengthen her body further. She had learned to carry a pack that, much like the canoes, had weighed as much as she did. They had sent her to courses that dealt with first aid in the field including becoming CPR certified, field patches for injuries such as sucking chest wounds, applying tourniquets, field treatments for concussions, heat stroke, and splinting any broken limbs that feasibly can be splinted. Her map-reading skills were sharpened through boot camp and various courses she had been sent to, as were her land navigation skills through hands on experience.

She also knew how to use a knife for various situations. She knew how to fish and gather kindling and fallen branches for firewood. She knew that utilizing iodine tablets or droplets or boiling water were the best ways to purify it if she needed to drink water that wasn't bottled or from a tap.

Simple yet necessary basic skills when removed from polite society. She quietly reasoned it was better to get a refresher than to deny she needed any more information on the matter.

Shay thanked him for the information, shifting her hold on the books and retreated back to her room to get started on her reading.

* * *

"My brain hurts."

Shay felt exhaustion holding an iron grip over the confines of her brain…or was that just a headache? Or maybe it was both. Both. It was both. A cluster headache brought on by exhaustion.

Jacob cackled and shoved her thermos back into her hands. Delicious warmth spread through her fingers, her palms, up past her wrists and she shivered in delight when she took that first life-affirming sip.

"Mmmm. I think I love you."

"Awwww. I think that's the sweetest piece of sarcasm I've ever heard come out that smart mouth of yours. Truly, I'm honoured." Jacob said, placing a hand gently over his chest. Shay snorted at him.

"Damn straight you'd better be," Shay grinned as she slid her eyes closed. "And I was talking to the coffee, dearie. Not you. I actually dislike people on principle. Nothing personal."

"Yeah, you say that, and yet, I feel it was _very_ personal." Jacob remarked. Shay shrugged, grinning behind her thermos as she brought it up to her lips again.

"Take it how you will." She said, leaning back in the chair she had claimed for her own in the interim while they waited for Professor Birch. She was seated at one of the empty lab desks. Meryl was already working at her desk, compiling a list of data. Or writing a report. Something.

Whatever it was she was doing, Meryl was hyper-focused. She had been excited to see Shay earlier when she had come in, offering her well-wishes and the like, but the moment she sat down to start work, that was that. Her attention had diverted to her work in earnest. Jacob, however, seemed to be taking a break, as he's been working through the night.

Shay, in the meantime, was enjoying the downtime. Every day for the past week, from the moment she came in to the moment she left, Birch had whisked Shay away to privately instruct her on the journey she was about to embark on.

Today was going to be her last day here.

Today she'd either be released to go off on her own…or she'd be kept for longer if she didn't meet Professor Birch's expectations.

The day before, she had taken a region-based test after all her instruction. It was the same test that most aspiring young adults in Hoenn, who after their formative years of learning in school, could take to gain their trainer's license. If she passed, she'd be guaranteed her ID card that would ensure her a passport through the region. If she didn't…she'd be stuck here. For how long, however, she couldn't say.

In preparation for that test, her last several days had been jam-packed with more information than she knew what to do with. She wasn't sure if she should be thankful or not that a good chunk of the data relayed to her she already knew from the games. Typing was simple enough to understand, as were the advantages they offered over others, and weaknesses that could be exploited. Her understanding from the games—which she no longer felt comfortable referring to as such—gave her an edge and helped speed things up. Professor Birch had been impressed and helped breeze things along, unknowing of her underlying beforehand knowledge. She sure as hell wasn't going to complain nor was she going to volunteer the insider secret either.

Whoever said video games were useless wastes of time could suck it, as far as Shay was concerned.

Birch did, however, have questions about her world when they were alone. Questions of how different things were in where she was from, what kind of creatures lived there, what life and technology were like, the environments and habitats…

So many probing inquiries interjected and peppered throughout conversation and lessons over the last two weeks. It got to the point where she had to politely steer conversation back to the task at hand, and decline answering his questions in full. He seemed to gather her intentions whenever she did this and would apologize after a while and withhold from asking any other questions. Even when he was bursting at the seams to ask, he managed to suppress himself for the most part, and so did she. It provided her with some amount of relief and kept her from becoming distracted.

Shay swiveled in her borrowed chair, sipping from her thermos.

"You nervous?"

She glanced over where Jacob had sat down. He was peering into a microscope on the table adjacent to her.

"Pins and needles. I'm sitting on them." She replied, trying not to let the wobble in her voice be too noticeable. She wanted to twitch and jitter in her seat, but somehow, found a way to keep herself from doing so. She was willing enough to thank her coffee and leave it at that. "Do you know when Professor Birch is supposed to get here or—"

Before she could even finish, the doors to the main laboratory floor burst open, and admitted the very man they were all waiting for. He had a manila envelope in hand as he strode through the doors. It had already been opened, but it was hard to get a read on Birch. His face was stony and serious; a complete reversal to how he normally appeared. Jacob and Meryl stood, and Shay did as well. She could barely hear anything, not above the rush of blood roaring in her ears, or the tap-dancing beat of her heart working its way up from her chest and into her throat. She kept wiping her sweaty palms on her thighs, but it did little to abate her how slick and clammy they were. She was nearly startled right out of her skin when Meryl placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"So? What's the verdict?"

Birch had sent off the results of her test as soon as she had finished, had pulled strings to get them graded overnight and sent back as quickly as possible. It paid well to have connections.

Professor Birch carefully extracted the results from within, reading over the text printed on the sheet. Even Jacob and Meryl were beginning to fidget alongside Shay.

"Professor? You're kinda leaving us in suspense here. How'd she do?" Meryl piped up. Birch glanced at her, then swept his gaze over the rest of them and lingered on Shay the longest. He slowly turned the paper in his hand around and handed it to her. Shay took it, unable to hide the quake in her hand and pulled it toward her. Jacob and Meryl crowded her, reading over her shoulder.

"Holy shit, you got a ninety-seven percent!?"

Shay lingered on that number. Ninety-seven percent, out of a hundred. They swam around behind her eyes as she closed them, and she didn't even protest as Meryl nicked the paper from her hands.

"This is amazing! You must have had incredible aptitude tests back in Kanto!"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. Sure, I did," she found herself mumbling. When she opened her eyes, Birch's face had split into an open and cheery grin.

"Fantastic work. Just two weeks' worth of studying."

"Well, it shouldn't take a genius to know everything that's basic the world over," Meryl said with a smile. At this, when his assistants weren't looking and when Shay caught his eye, Birch winked conspiratorially at her. She had to fight from grinning too widely. After the round of congratulations were made, Birch swooped in once more, breaking into the circle and guided Shay towards the back of the main lab, where he had claimed a desk for himself. It was piled with reports, folders, books, and a myriad of loose sheets of paper all over the messy surface. He dropped his satchel on top of it all and swung her back around to a machine imbedded in the back wall of the lab.

The glossy screen hanging above them was dark at the moment, but Shay knew when the machine was turned on, the screen would light up with health status updates and conditions. At hip level, a sliding shelf could be pulled out from the innards of the tubing, and in the shelf was a metal cradle for pokéballs.

Birch pulled this shelf out, and nestled in the cradle, were the three pokéballs of the lab pokémon. Their sigils stood starkly out against the red finish: the yellow flame of Torchic, the blue water droplet of Mudkip, and lastly, the green leaf of Treeko.

"Now, I know the choice is ultimately up to you here, and don't let my opinion get in the way of that, but I think you have the best chemistry with Mudkip here. You did fantastic work with it the other day. But, if you feel like you'd work better with one of the other two…well, like I said. It'd be up to you."

Shay stared over the three pokéballs laid out in front of her, roving over each symbol carefully with her eyes. She frowned and turned back to Birch.

"I thought Brendan took one of these guys with him?"

"Oh, he most certainly did, but I managed to snag another one from one of the breeders I usually go through." He beamed at her. "But I'm not going to tell you which one. I'd rather leave it a surprise in case you two ever met up on the road and wanted to duke it out."

"Of course you wouldn't wanna ruin it." Shay sighed. Behind her, she heard Jacob and Meryl sniggering. They must have known which one Brendan had taken as well, but they wouldn't tell her either. It made her a little more apprehensive at simply not knowing. She went back to looking over the pokéballs, and tried to discern which one had been taken, but it was virtually impossible. They all gleamed under the fluorescent lighting, their red-and-white finish pristine and unmarred. The tiny sigils were the same as she remembered. There was nothing to suggest any of them had been picked by Brendan and then was replaced.

A minute passed her by when she finally reached for one of pokéballs and wrapped her fingers around its girth. It was already fully expanded, and she rubbed her fingers over the polished finish, her heart already trip hammering away. Her lips quirked upwards as she lifted the pokéball out of its cradle, her heart hammering away in frenzied excitement.

"All right. I choose this guy." She said as she pivoted. Birch took one look at the pokéball and beamed at her approvingly.

"Good choice."

* * *

It was not even ten in the morning before Shay was out on the road. She had made a pit stop at Norman's, to add in some of her personal belongings to her new pack. The only things she ended up leaving behind were her military-issued pack, her extra phone charger, her two green monsters, the miniature speaker, her folder filled with its messy sketches and blank sheets of paper and the spiral notebook. Everything else that hadn't been consumed, such as the pretzels or water, she brought along with. The hardest thing she had to leave behind were her computer and the external hard drive. On the one hand, she knew it would be foolhardy to take it with her. What if it broke? What if it short-circuited or needed repair? She couldn't very well take it in. It would lead to awkward questions, suspicions. Birch and Norman alike had been explicit: they needed her to not arouse suspicion of who she was, of how she was one of the Appeared.

She trusted Norman to look after her things in the interim of her absence.

After rearranging everything to accommodate the newly added inventory, she locked up Norman's house for the last time and took off down the road that led out of Littleroot.

When she came to the threshold that would bring her outside Littleroot, she stopped right along the border and stared down the road. Shay reached for the magnetic belt at her hips and tugged off the lone pokéball that sat there, tapped the button at its center and it immediately ballooned in her hand. Tossing it, the creature inside coalesced into being from light and energy.

Mudkip blinked several times in the mid-morning light and swept his gaze around until it landed on her. "Hey there, pal. You ready to go?"

"You…you chose me." He sounded more astonished than anything as he stared at her with his coal-black eyes.

"I did," Shay replied with a soft smile. "C'mon. You really think I'm gonna dump you for someone else? We kicked butt together that other day, didn't we?"

Mudkip considered this and when he was done, he nodded vigorously. The orange external gills along his cheeks bobbled most elastically as he did. "Yeah, we did, didn't we?"

"Great! Oh, and from now on, I'm going to call you…Keno. Sound good?"

Keno leapt in the air once, twice and his entire little body was wriggling in absolute excitement as a reply.

"Let's get going already!"

* * *

 _ **Notes**_ **: There is an explanation as to why Shay has an x-transceiver rather than a PokéNav Plus. It is a small piece of plot that will become apparent later on.**

 **First team member is on board!**

 **Pokémon** **: Keno the Mudkip, Level 5  
** **Nature/Characteristic** **: Brave and Good Perseverance  
Move Set** **: Tackle, Growl, Water Gun**


	7. Chapter Six: Warming Up

**Chapter Six:  
Warming Up**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: And so, the adventure begins. Also, I have survived midterms. Apologies for the ever-so-slightly late chapter.  
**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Mudkip**

* * *

" _When there is a war between fire and water, fire loses."  
_ **-Spanish Proverb**

* * *

Shay studied the map display on her x-transceiver while she nibbled on a protein ration bar. The terrain was straightforward, with trails that trainers could take through the forest as detours, or the two-way road that led right to the heart of town. Taking the trails in the forest would result in more encounters with wild pokémon. That could mean getting more training time in. There were also designated camping spots dotted along the trail. It was generally maintained by trainers. Taking the road, however, would be safer if things got too hot under the collar for her and Keno. It would take only a half day to get to Oldale Town, if they kept going, with minimal or no training at all.

At the moment, they were in the forest. The forest floor was lush with flora and fauna. She could see, from the makeshift seat she'd made out of a fallen log, that there was a family unit of Zigzagoon not that far from where she and Keno were. In the treetops, what she assumed were Taillow flitted above them, going on about their own business. It was a balmy day out, picturesque even. Keno was refreshing himself in a small stream a little ways from Shay. She kept glancing up, keeping her eye on him from where she sat as she finished off her ration. Keno had already eaten. They'd have enough provisions for the both of them to make it to Petalburg, so long as they didn't delay or dither around on Route 102.

When she finished surveying the map, she turned it off, finished her ration, and called to Keno. He came running over as she swung her pack onto her shoulders. It was definitely lighter than what she had been expecting, but it had been packed appropriately enough for a one-person excursion.

Keno looked at her expectantly as they started back down the trail.

"Hey, I got a question."

"Go for it."

"How come you can understand me, but other people can't?"

Shay mulled over the inquiry, glancing down at the Mudkip trotting along by her side.

"I…honestly don't know. All I can offer is conjecture."

"What's conjecture?"

"Guesses. Assumptions. Things like that."

"Oh. Why do you think that is?"

Shay has thought on that before, but always came up short on reasons or possibilities very quickly. She didn't have much else to go on even now.

"To be honest, I really don't know." She hesitated. "Keno…would you believe me if I said…I'm not from this world?"

Keno tilted his head to the side as he trotted alongside her. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well…I wasn't born in Hoenn. This region. I wasn't born in any region on this world, in fact."

"Then how did you get here? And where are you really from?"

"I'm…from another place. A world like this, but there's no such thing as pokémon."

Keno stopped dead in his tracks and simply stared at her, his mouth popping open in what she could only assume was astonishment. Shay stopped as well, looking down at the Mudkip.

"No pokémon? At all? Anywhere?"

"Nope. No pokémon. We have animals, but they don't breathe fire or create rockslides or carry people on their backsides across the seas or in the air. They're amazing in their own way, just…not as amazing as pokémon can be. But people can't really talk to animals. Not like how we're talking to one another, not like how we can understand one another." It was a half-truth. There were pokémon…in the form of multimedia entertainment, including toys and plushies. But no living pokémon whatsoever existed in her world…although if people were beginning to go missing because of the Creation Trio, she would surmise that pokémon were probably going missing as well. And if that were the case…

She shuddered at the implications of those thoughts.

"Whoa." Keno was silent for a few moments longer. "So, then how come you aren't so freaked by us?"

"I've adjusted." Shay said, and when she noticed the perturbed tilt of Keno's head, she added, "I also don't think freaking out is going to help me in any way."

"Do you think doing this will?" He inquired earnestly.

"Traveling?"

"Being a trainer."

Shay smiled as they continued down the trail. "Sure. I'll kick everyone's ass in the League here in Hoenn and then I'll be Champion and after that, I can do whatever I want. And what I want, is to go find the Creation Trio in Sinnoh and shake them down, make them send everyone they displaced back where they belong."

"Whoa. That's a lot to do." Keno said. The insinuations of her statement hit him hard seconds later and he sat, his head beginning to sag. "But…if you do that…what're you going to do with me? You wouldn't leave me behind, would you? Or anyone else that was on the team, right?"

That was something Shay hadn't considered. She hadn't contemplated the idea of what to do with her team in the future. Should she leave them behind, release them all when the time came to return home? _If_ she could even go back home? Or should she try to take them with her if she was able to return? More scenarios began to pile up in her head, more questions she didn't know the answer to. If she were able to go home, would the military seize her and charge her with desertion, throw her in the brig? And if she brought the team with her, chances were, they would be taken away from her and locked up for the rest of their lives in some lab to be experimented on.

What if she didn't make it here in Hoenn or couldn't get to the Creation Trio at all? Christ on a crutch, what if something went wrong and she ended up in some horrific alternate dimension instead of the home she knew and grew up in?

Exaggerated horrors played havoc in loops through her head and she had to shake them away, return to the moment that was here and now. All the hypothetical scenarios were just that: hypothetical. All she could do was cross each bridge as she came to them. She could plan for the worst, but she should hope for the best. Her pessimistic attitude was something she always struggled to break free from.

She had to be positive. She had to _think_ _positive_.

That was so fucking hard sometimes when it was easier to give in to the negativity, to just give up and wallow in self-made misery.

She offered Keno a smile in an attempt to hide her tumultuous thoughts, and knelt beside him, petting him gently on the head. "I won't leave you behind. I promise."

It was the only consolation she could offer at the moment.

The rest of the early afternoon they spent on the trail, occasionally pausing to battle with wild pokémon that leapt into their path. Keno readily answered the call to fight. They fell behind Shay's expectations in making it to Oldale by evening and at first, Shay had been tempted to keep going in the dark, but retracted the decision just as quickly, realizing it wouldn't be wise to stumble around like that. With the last of the evening light, Shay gathered up kindling and twigs and fallen branches for her campfire. Slow and steady, she got the bits of tinder, bark, and twigs to catch and grow. Within the hour the campfire was blazing with her food cooking over it, and her sleeping bag was laid out. While her food cooked, Shay tended to Keno by firelight.

"You did awesome work today, bud," she crooned as she applied a salve to a cut on his head. He blinked up at her, his mouth pulling open into a smile.

"Do ya think I'll be strong enough to take on a gym leader soon?" He said in rapt eagerness.

"Let's work our way up to that and battle with wild pokémon and trainers on the road first."

"Fiiiine." He huffed impatiently. She smiled at his tenacity and gave his head a gentle pat.

"Easy, little guy. You don't need to go rushing in."

Even if she herself was jittery all over again just with thinking about the gym battle, she had to temper herself the most. When she was done, Keno all but leapt into her lap. "Yeesh. You're affectionate, ain't ya?"

"You're my trainer. You chose me. Not that stuck-up Torchic or that boring Treeko." Keno replied brusquely, puffing his little chest out. Shay snickered and rubbed his back.

"I hear Professor Birch's son took one of them with him."

"Really? Which one?" He said, perking up, his little eyes glittering in the firelight.

"Dunno. Guess we'll find out if we meet him on the road," she said with a shrug. She had almost been hoping that Keno would have known, but if he had been in his pokéball, he most likely didn't know any more than Shay did. And given his response… "But, as far as the first gym goes, we'll be up against Roxanne. She uses rock-types—"

"I'm a water-type, so I have an advantage, don't I?" Keno interrupted excitedly.

"Just because you have an advantage, doesn't mean you're going to automatically win. You gotta build up your strength, level up."

"Can I evolve first?"

"We'll see. Maybe if we train enough."

 _This is like having a kid pushed on me._ _A very powerful kid who can spray the shit out of everyone that crosses their path with a high-powered water blast. Or can crush them with a swipe of their little tail._ She smiled wryly. _Or a very overeager boot._

That was honestly a terrifying thought, actually. Not for the first nor the last time, Shay wondered if pokémon had made it to her home world, and what kind of havoc is going on right now on the other end of things. Right out of the blue, she also wondered if what was going on in Sinnoh—the destruction and mayhem that the Creation Trio were wreaking—was somehow affecting her world. All the changes, the weather aberrations, the increase in animal attacks…

The very idea made her head spin. She recalled the short video clip she had watched the night before she awoke in Norman's house, had seen the triangular head poking up to gnaw at the fisherman's net. And the bright, blazing yellow star boldly imprinted on the top of its head, and she remembered the first idea that had hit her, instantly, innocently, blindly. The image was seared into her memory and made her wonder if pokémon had been appearing in her world long before anyone here even realized anything was out of place.

 _Can't do anything about it now,_ she thought bitterly. As much as she wanted to do the very Marine thing and bitch, moan, and complain about it to the open air, she relented. This wasn't the time nor the place. She swallowed down the sour taste of dissent and instead, she focused on more immediate things, such as letting her food finish cooking and getting Keno his food. As they ate, the last of the sun's light bled away and night chorus began to pipe up in full. Keno stopped at the sudden report of howls that echoed in the distance, as did much of the nightlife. He listened intently as the sounds faded, and slowly, the sounds of insects began to pick back up, only to die again as another song of howling began anew.

Shay faltered in eating her dinner to listen as well. She understood pokémon when they spoke to her, true, but when it came to the deeply primal noises—she had no clue what was being conveyed. This was a language beyond comprehension on a common surface level.

The howls reminded her of the dogsledding trip she had taken, so long ago. It had been her first night in the snow and ice, embraced by the arms of the wintry forest on either side of their camp. The wolves had started the conversation, and her group's dog sled team responded in kind, so suddenly in the middle of the night. It had woken her up, but she hadn't been frightened, like some of the others in her group had been when the spoke of it the next morning. She had listened, fascinated and mesmerized by the sounds. She had drifted back to sleep listening to the sled dogs and wild wolves howling to one another, talking on another level altogether.

She still found the sounds captivating to listen to, but she knew that unlike the wolves in the northern forests and lakes of Minnesota and southern Canada, the Poochyena roaming the woods might come for a closer inspection. She wondered how many people have chosen to spend the night out in the woods like this, here or elsewhere, knowing that they could be assaulted by wild pokémon at any moment.

 _I guess that's the same question people should ask themselves when they go into woods where bears, wolves, and mountain lions roam back home. Or, wherever they go and predators lie in wait._

Shay turned in not long after she finished her food. As she set her boots out by her pack and slid into her sleeping bag, Keno dove in with her, snuggling tight against her body.

"Whoa. You nervous or something?"

"I've never slept outside like this. The professor, he always kept us in our pokéballs at night."

"Do you…want to go back in or…?"

"No! I want to stay out here, with you."

"I…okay. Okay, that's fine. If you want to stay out, okay."

Shay zipped the sleeping bag the rest of the way up its track and settled down with the Mudkip pressing close. She gave him a gentle rub on the head before closing her eyes, the crackle of the dying campfire and the distant howls of the Poochyena growing dim to her ears.

* * *

She awoke in a sharp, painful jolt with her heart set to racing. She sucked down breathes in painful, greedy gulps, her limbs trembling, a cold sweat soaking her completely. Shay's temples pounded with an oncoming headache charging down like a runaway train and she curled up with a groan. She had had a nightmare, she was sure of it, but of what, she couldn't remember for the life of her. As soon as she jerked awake, it began to dissolve like a haze. It slipped through her fingers like water and whatever remnants of fear that had paralyzed her faded as well. The uneven tempo of her heart was the only thing that refused to align itself back to normalcy.

When she glanced over to where the campfire had died overnight, she was startled, and her heart went racing all over again. Keno stood between her and the campfire. On the other side, a lone Poochyena sat complacently, watching them both with bright red eyes. A light mist hung in the air, but early golden light from the rising sun pried its way into the forest, casting them in a soft and pale-yellow haze.

Shay sat perfectly still, afraid that if she moved, the wild pokémon would leap into action. Keno held his ground but didn't attack. He did glance back at her, as though sensing she'd awoken.

"She showed up while you were still sleeping. She won't leave!" He told her, jerking his head in the Poochyena's direction. Shay looked at the grey-furred pokémon and saw that the Poochyena had locked her gaze on her.

"You," the Poochyena barked at Shay. Shay carefully began to extricate herself out from her sleeping bag and stood. "You're that human that came to our forest the other day. You fought us and beat us."

Shay squinted at the Poochyena, but she didn't look familiar. She must have been talking about the day she had come to Professor Birch's aid. All those Poochyena had all looked unremarkably similar. Then again, they had all been fleeing with their tails tucked between their legs the last time she saw the pack. Shay huffed. "Am I supposed to apologize? You were attacking a person."

"He was trespassing. As are you, right now. I have half a mind to call my pack and have them come down on you all over again."

The Poochyena leapt to her paws. Keno bristled, his back arching, his tailfin quivering.

"You do realize I beat all of you with just Keno here last time, right?"

"You caught us by surprise." The Poochyena puffed crossly. "But I'm feeling generous right now. Fight me. If you win, I come with you. If I win, you face the rest of my pack as a consequence."

Shay stared at the bold little pokémon facing her and Keno down with incredulity. Didn't the pokédex entry, if memory served her, say that Poochyena were rather cowardly little pokémon?

"What in the fuck is going on right now?" She muttered under her breath. She exchanged a look with Keno, and without a word, they both shrugged. She nodded to him and he turned back to face the Poochyena anew.

"I don't see how this has become a negotiation, but fine. Whatever. Let's get her, Keno!"

The little pokémon facing them was fast in responding. The Poochyena charged at Keno, her mouth suddenly smoking. It burst into flame seconds later, looking like something out of a horror film. Her red eyes glittered bloody rubies. It caught both Shay and Keno off guard, but Shay was quick in yelling at Keno to get out of the way. The Poochyena snapped her fire-filled maw short, narrowly missing the Mudkip.

"Water Gun! Put out that fire, Keno!"

A gush of water erupted from Keno's mouth and smacked the Poochyena square in the face. She yowled and spluttered, grey smoke gushing from her jaws as the force of the attack flung her across the camp ground. Shay dove for her pack and ripped at an outside pocket. A few empty pokéballs spilled from the pocket and she snatched one up.

"Finish her off with a Tackle attack, hurry!" She boomed. Keno was more than happy to oblige. He tore after the Poochyena and struck her hard. It sent her flying once more, right into the dirt. Shay tossed the pokéball quickly, before the little pokémon could respond. The Poochyena disappeared in a flash of light and the pokéball snapped shut with a chime, wriggling on the forest floor. Shay held her breath, watching as it shook several times before growing still. A few seconds passed before she allowed herself to breath.

"Holy shit."

She looked to Keno, beaming at him.

"Looks like we earned ourselves a new teammate."

* * *

"If my pack had been there—"

"We would have beaten them all over again, just like the last time. And you, _you_ tried using a fire-type move against a _water-type pokémon_. How is that smart, again?"

The Poochyena turned her little nose up into the air. Shay raised her hands into the air in return.

"Hey, you made the bet, remember? We won, you come with us. Not like you can do much about it, since we're in the Pokémon Center now."

Oldale Town hadn't been much further down the trails from where she had camped out on Route 101. After she had caught the Poochyena, she and Keno had cleaned up camp, put out any lingering embers in the campfire, and went on their way. Oldale Town wasn't all that large of a town, but it was spaced out in the small valley cradled within the verdant forest that surrounded it on all sides. It was quaint and charming, with a few store fronts, houses, and the main center and mart being the centerfold of the town.

After getting Keno and the Poochyena healed, she released them both.

"I'm starved. Let's grab some food. You down, missy?"

"My name is Sela. Not 'Missy'."

"Ah. All right. I'm Shay and this is Keno. Nice to meet you, Sela."

Sela regarded her coolly, her earlier irritation having disappeared, and offered a toothy smile. She seemed pleased that Shay wasn't overriding her. "Charmed. I suppose a bet's a bet. And as you said…not much I can do from here."

Shay led the way to the small cafeteria that the pokémon nurse manning the front desk had told her about. Sela and Keno followed after her, chatting the entire way. Shay listened in as Keno asked a round of questions, Sela answered, and then vice versa. As the two chattered away, Shay led the way over to a buffet-style counter. A worker behind the food smiled and greeted her as she came over with a tray and plate. She was quick to pick out the foods she wanted and made a round for dishes of pokémon food and water.

"Hey, Shay! When're we leaving for the gym?" Keno suddenly asked, turning his coal-black eyes on her as they shuffled out to find a booth in the dining area.

"The gym's not in Oldale, Keno. We have to…you know what? I'll show you when we get our food."

The cafeteria's dining room was sparse as far as bodies went. Oldale didn't seem to be a buzzing hub at the moment. Shay wondered if there was a period of high activity with the town. There were three other trainers in the cafeteria, seated with their teams. She found a booth tucked away in a corner, and laid the food and water dishes out for Keno and Sela before digging into her own food. As they ate, Shay brought up the region map on her x-transceiver and showed them where they were.

"That icon right there, that little shape? That's us. We're here in Oldale Town. And over here is Route 102. That's where we need to go next." She scrolled the map over with a touch of her finger. "After we get through Route 102…over here, that's Petalburg City. We can restock on supplies, and after that, make our way through Route 104, then the Petalburg Woods, and then after that, it's a straight shot to Rustboro City. That's where we'll find our first gym challenge."

"And what are we going to be facing when we're there?" Sela interjected, her tone dry and biting.

"Rock-types are Roxanne's specialty."

Sela sniffed pointedly, appearing disinterested. Keno, in contrast, looked excited.

"I can take that gym, no problem!"

"Oh? And what happens when there are situations where you can't take on whatever challenges come your way? You're going to need the strength of a pack." Sela said in a matter-of-fact tone. Keno glanced at her.

"You're not in a pack anymore, Sela. We're a _team_."

"Team, pack. It's the same difference. We work together, do we not?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Then it's only a matter of words. I knew one day I may be captured by a trainer, as would any one of my packmates. Some of us were more than happy to go, to become a part of a new pack. I'll miss my pack, but now I have a new one." Sela's black lips peeled back into a toothy grin, showing off her large canines. Keno opened his mouth but stopped himself short, reconsidering saying anything and turned back to his food.

Shay waited for either of them to follow-up and sensing that they had nothing else to say, she turned off the map and began tucking into her own food. Halfway through her food, she stiffened in her booth, a hand flying to her left side as a sharp pang made itself known, like a bolt out of the blue. It ebbed and flowed, but one thing she noticed, it had come quick, and it was slowly growing stronger.

 _Oh, no. No, please, no. Please just be a weird stitch. I've had those before. Those linger, but they pass eventually._

She slowed her breathing down, taking them in deep and letting them out deliberately, closing her eyes. She curled her fingers around her flank, digging them in to create pressure. The other hand reflexively tightened into a fist, cramping until her knuckles creaked and grew white and her nails began digging tightly into her palm.

"Shay? Shay, are you okay?"

She nodded, keeping her eyes screwed firmly closed. She focused on her breathing, holding onto the rapidly thinning hope that the pain in her side was merely stitch, a strange pain, something that would work itself out and ease away eventually.

She grew disheartened when it rapidly progressed for the worst instead. She brought her legs up to curl them close to her body, holding back a squeal of pain that was building in her throat.

 _Not another fucking one. For fuck's sake._

She was barely aware of the little paw on her arm until it dug into her, trying to gain her attention. Shay jolted, glancing down beside her and saw Sela and Keno staring at her with worry welling in their eyes.

"Something's wrong, isn't there?" Sela remarked, her red eyes weaving over Shay's form. She gave a tight nod.

"Yep. I know what it is, too." She looked over her half-eaten plate of food, at the two empty food bowls of pokémon food Sela and Keno had polished off, and began scooting out of her seat, dragging her pack along with. "We gotta go and…find a hospital or something."

"You mean the nurse at the front desk?" Keno asked worriedly. Shay shook her head.

"Nope. Nope, not a pokémon nurse. A human nurse. For me." Her voice came out with hoarse strain, rough and breathless.

"What's going on?!" He was nearly shouting at her. When she looked down at him, he was trembling with anxiety. She bit her lip and suppressed a groan of pain as her side began to radiate with slow, burning agony.

"Kidney stones. I'm having a goddamn kidney stone and if I don't move now, I'm not gonna be able to move at all until someone comes and gets me with a stretcher."

* * *

 _ **Notes**_ **: Oh, my sweet summer children…kidney stones are the fucking worst. I've had a number of them, and I can attest that having one is not unlike labour pains. And I've had two children, so I know what the fuck I'm talking about as far as pain goes. As far as kidney stone pains go, I've had at least a dozen of those fuckers, so I feel like I've had more than a dozen fucking children, minus the need to go pee every twenty minutes and pushing a human being out the hoo-ha. It's not fun.**

 **I've since had a surgery to remove the rest residing in my left kidney, since that's the side that's caused me the most misery. Haven't had any in my right, but…it's only a matter of time.**

 **On another note…another team member has joined!**

 **Pokémon** **: Sela the Poochyena, Level 5**

 **Nature/Characteristic** **: Hardy and Scatters Things Often**

 **Move Set** **: Fire Fang, Tackle, Howl**

 **Hooray, terminology. Who's tired of it already? Hint—I'm not. I have no regrets.**

 _ **Boot**_ **: A rather pejorative nickname for a new Marine, usually reserved for ones fresh out of boot camp. They usually retain this nickname until they either deploy or have had at least a year or two of being in the fleet under their belts. Boots tend to be very motivated individuals, still brimming with boot camp jitters, tics, and patterns until they settle in and become bitter alcoholic jackoffs who laugh to hide their pain and do the stupidest shit due to boredom. Shit usually goes down either in the strip clubs out in town or at the barracks, but it's not generally restricted only to these settings. The field and on deployment are some other setting examples in which stupidity reigns supreme.**


	8. Chapter Seven: Choices

**Chapter Seven:  
Choices**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes:_ Apologies, once again, for a delayed installation. I once more wish to cite school as being a large factor for this. Finals are fast approaching, and projects loom as the deadlines come rushing in. I hope to get on a more regular schedule during the few weeks of break I'm allotted over the holidays, before spring semester next January kicks in. **

**I would also like to thank the more recent reviews; I am so glad that you're enjoying the story, and that you like the descriptive things that go about in it! It makes me happy to hear things like that!**

 **In the meantime, my lovelies, onward with this chapter! It is long, so hopefully, it satiates you for the time being!**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Mudkip, Sela the Poochyena**

* * *

" _Every life has a watershed moment, an instant when you realize you're about to make a choice that will define everything else you ever do, and that if you choose wrong, there may not be that many things left to choose. Sometimes the wrong choice is the only one that lets you face the end with dignity, grace, and the awareness that you're doing the right thing._

 _I'm not sure we can recognize those moments until they've passed us."  
_ **-Georgia "George" Mason, "** _ **Feed**_ **" by Mira Grant**

* * *

"Ma'am, I've already told you three times—you can't have your pokémon wandering around the room! Please put them away in their pokéballs!"

"They're _worried_ ; I can't tell them to _not_ worry." Shay grinned in spite of the exasperated glare sent her way by the nurse standing in the hospital room doorway. The woman stood there for several extra seconds, staring Shay down, as though daring her to continue challenging her authority. She finally seemed to give up, poked her head out the door, and sighed heavily.

" _Fine_. Just make sure they don't mess with any of the equipment, please. The second they do, I'll be the one to put them away and you won't get them back until you're discharged." She crossed the room and pulled the portable computer desk around so she could clatter away on the keyboard. Shay reached over to pat a fidgeting Keno on the head. He glanced between her and the nurse who had just entered the room. Sela snuggled closer into Shay's other side, letting out a soft woof.

"Yeah, about that…when can I get out of here?"

"Soon enough. The doctor will be in to talk to you about your kidney stones. Have you ever had them before—"

Shay held up a hand and interrupted her.

"Multiple times. Both sides, although recently the left side seems to be making it a life goal to murder me with pain more than my right side."

The nurse nodded, entered the information, then looked back at her.

"You're a registered trainer, correct?"

"Yes."

"Going on the League Challenge?"

"Does it…matter?"

"Only League Challengers have full medical coverage through the League. Otherwise, you'd have to have insurance through Trinity Health Care here in Hoenn." The woman eyed her up and down, the question clearly written on her face: ' _You stupid or are you new here?_ ' Shay decided to not let her be tempted to voice the question aloud and bobbed her head to the nurse.

"Oh. Yes. I'm a League Challenger." Shay licked her lips, nervous now. "Does it…matter that I just started and don't have any gym badges yet?"

"No, just so long as I can see your Trainer ID and you're registered with the League, you should be fine. I just need to enter all that into the system and then we'll have the doctor see you, he'll talk about future treatment, and then you'll be discharged with any medication she'll see fit to send you off with."

"Great."

With the nurse gone, Shay leaned heavily into the hospital bed, closing her eyes. Keno shifted at her side and crawled right into her lap, burrowing his head against her abdomen. She shifted in the bed to sit up better. "You're gonna be okay, right?"

"Yeah. It's just kidney stones." Shay opened her eyes and took a deep breath, smiling at Keno reassuringly. She rubbed his head and he leaned into her hand.

"What, exactly, are kidney stones?" Sela inquired, drawing Shay's attention.

"Little calcified stones that grow in the kidney. When they leave the kidney, they travel down the little ureter tubing that connects to the bladder. It's painful. People compare it to labour pains, but I wouldn't know. No kids."

"Can they fix you?" Keno pressed, his tone urgent, impatient, concerned. He sounded much like a little child who wanted things to move faster and the comparison hit her rather hard. Even Sela's face seemed softened in light of her predicament. Shay couldn't help but to laugh.

"I've been trying, but the docs back home just keep bouncing me around. Most they'll do is give me painkillers and send me away." She sighed, dejected and bitter at the memories of military doctors emphatically unsympathetic, unmoved in assisting Shay with a long-term reparation of her situation. Instead, they focused on short-term solutions.

Shay tilted her head to look up at the ceiling, leaning into the hospital-issued pillow. "Maybe they can do something more here."

* * *

It was nearing mid-afternoon by the time Shay was discharged from the Petalburg Hospital. Hefting her pack, she turned this way and that, attempting to reorient herself. Failing in determining which was way east, she hailed a woman wearing a valet parking vest and asked for directions. The woman was helpful in redirecting her, smiling sympathetically as Shay explained what had happened in the Oldale Pokémon Center.

"Oh, sweetie, that's horrible! I'm so sorry that happened, but I'm glad to hear you're feeling better. Good luck in getting back on track with your challenge!" She said to Shay as they parted ways. Shay waved to her as she took the road toward the main street that would lead back to Route 102.

Sela's claws clicked loudly on the concrete walkway as they walked, while Keno's footsteps were quieter in comparison. Shay took it nice and easy, knowing from experience if she tried to hike it like in the Marines, she'd be ending up with painful blisters all over her feet by the end of the day. She had managed to avoid it her first day out, but she didn't want to push her luck.

She didn't have any moleskin to tape up to her feet if that happened.

"Is there a reason we're heading back the way we have come?" Keno queried, breaking into the silence between them. She looked up at Shay expectantly.

"Can't miss anything. And we should get some training in before the end of the day with you two." Keno perked up excitedly, quivering his tail fin.

"We could get a new teammate!"

"If we're lucky," Shay said with a grin, continuing to lead the way back to Route 102. It took the better part of an hour to navigate their way back to the outskirts of the city. It took another half hour to delve into the woods proper of Route 102, and by the time they stopped for a break, the sun was slowly descending in the sky. The wild pokémon, however, were teeming with life and raring to go. They all ate a quick snack before diving into training for the better part of the rest of the afternoon. Shay caught a few pokémon to satisfy study inquiries set by Professor Birch as well. The information downloaded to the pokédex as she did, slowly but surely.

They even managed to snag their very first trainer battle. A young teenage girl donning hiking gear came upon them from the trail they had chosen for their training. She introduced herself as Tiana and had a pair of Zigzagoon consisting of her team, and they were unironically nicknamed Jack and Jill. Jack was first up, looking fluffed, pumped, and ready to fight. His fur bristled and quivered with excitement.

Shay was quick to send Sela out, feeling emboldened by their training from earlier in the day.

"C'mon Jack, let's start this rumble off with a Tackle attack! Take out that trashy little pooch!"

"Hey, man, there's no need to insult my girl!" Shay snapped, her shoulders hitching up in indignancy. Still prickling, she barked at Sela to dodge the attack, and the Poochyena did so at the last moment. Jack went sailing past Sela, his momentum carrying him head over paws into the ground. He tried to slow himself down by digging his claws into the ground for purchase, but only succeeded in tearing up clods of dirt and grass.

"Quick, counter with a Bite attack," Shay shouted, just as Sela's paws touched the ground. Sela was quick to respond, charging after the still-recovering Zigzagoon stumbling across the ground. Sela was quick to take advantage of that, sinking her large fangs into Jack's flank and started shaking her head, hard. It was almost comical, how the Zigzagoon took on sudden ragdoll mechanics, but the red spreading across the pokémon's fur was bringing the gravitas and reality of the situation back down to earth in a hurry.

Tiana was quick to recall Jack before it got too bloody and sent in Jill next. Shay called Sela back but the Poochyena remained rooted to her spot, facing down the second Zigzagoon.

"Sela, get back here, now! Let Keno get in there!"

"I can handle this. Just trust me!"

Shay was taken aback by the steely tone Sela had replied with, doubly so by the cool reassurance that she had everything under control. Uncertainty gripped her tight and she knew every second needed to count, that she couldn't continue to hesitate.

"All right, fine, fine! I…I trust you." She consented, albeit grudgingly. Turning her attention back to Tiana and her opposing team, she noticed that the other girl was staring at her strangely. Shay scowled at her and snapped brusquely, "What?"

"You…you're acting like you understand your pokémon," she said, her brow beetling in confusion. Her eyes shifted between Shay and Sela, and it was perhaps this confusion that gave Shay a few extra precious seconds to gather her thoughts. She felt the defensive tension that had built up in her shoulders easing away as she gathered the full scope of Tiana's perplexity. She seemed to have completely forgotten that she was supposed to be battling. Jill the Zigzagoon glanced back at her trainer, her posture no longer battle-ready. Sela was the only one who seemed to have her attention focused on the fight.

"And what if I can?" Shay pressed cautiously, eyes narrowing as she watched the younger girl across from her.

Tiana didn't answer right away. She looked between Shay and Sela, and then even to Keno sitting beside Shay, taking them all in together in a new light. Even Jill was staring at Shay, as though she had suddenly started to glow. Or perhaps she had grown a second head or third arm. Shay couldn't tell from their silence, and it was beginning to chafe her. Sela slowly pulled herself out of her defensive stance, tilting her head.

"Um…hello? Are you two all right?" Shay called, waving a hand at Tiana. The young girl shook her head, as though clearing her head and let out a loud exhalation. Jill, wordless, shared a look with her trainer.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, it's just…I don't know anyone who knows how to understand pokémon. I've only ever heard about it, but…I always thought it was a bedtime story for kids, or some cheesy urban legend."

Now Shay could read what was written in the other girl's eyes: it was uncertain awe.

"Are you…still into the battle, or…" Shay said, motioning between their pokémon. Sela nodded as well.

Keno muttered something, but Shay didn't catch what he'd said. Instead, she kept her focus on Tiana, who was recalling her remaining Zigzagoon. The last look Shay caught on Jill's face was astonishment before the telltale chime and light of the pokéball calling back the Zigzagoon rang in the air.

"No. No, I think…I'm good. I forfeit. You win."

Sela bristled, her hackles standing on end. "What? You can't forfeit! Why are you forfeiting, just because she can understand us?" Sela glanced at Shay over her shoulder, her red eyes staring accusingly at Shay. Shay threw up her hands in surrender.

"Hey, don't give me that look! I didn't do anything wrong here!" She said to the Poochyena. Sela glared at Shay for a few seconds longer before her shoulders slumped and she sighed.

"You're right. I can't blame you. It's _her_ decision for quitting so quickly."

Tiana, who was edging her way closer, stopped suddenly when Sela whipped around to glare at her, her hackles rising abruptly, and her snout curled into an unmistakable snarl. She cast a nervous look Shay's way, a silent plea for help.

"Sela, stop. We'll find someone else to battle later, but it's getting late."

Sela turned on her heels and loped back to Shay's side, her ears folding against her skull. She cast one last resentful glance toward the young girl approaching Shay, who hurriedly held out a wad of cash to her. "Here. Your prize money."

Shay hesitated, but stretched her hand out to take it, thanking the girl. Tiana took her leave, heading back toward Petalburg. Shay watched her until she disappeared from sight around the bend in the road before turning toward Sela.

"What the hell was that back there?" She shot at the Poochyena. Shay felt Keno pressing against her leg, watching on in silence. Sela kept her head hung, her ears pressed down.

"She shouldn't have forfeited. In the wild—"

"Sela, we're not in the wild. That was a trainer battle. We try not to kill our opponents." Keno interjected, earning a sour glower from Sela. He shivered but didn't back down. "You're not in a pack roaming the woods anymore. You're—you're with us. We're your new pack. Team. Whatever you want to call it. And Shay makes the rules."

"Oh, I don't make _all_ the rules," Shay quickly corrected. "But as far as things go between us, Keno's on point. If another trainer decides to pull out from a battle, then that's on them. Let them. We'll do us and they can do them."

Keno, emboldened by Shay's encouraging words, puffed his chest out proudly. Sela considered them both, her scarlet red eyes betraying nothing.

"I suppose…I have much to learn. Thank you." Slowly, her ears lifted up and she even wagged her bushy grey tail. Casting a glance at the sky, she snorted. "Are we spending another evening outside, or are we heading back into the city?"

"We're staying at the Pokémon Center," Shay confirmed emphatically with a nod. Her shoulders and back were aching, her feet were tender and throbbing, and her left flank was beginning to edge back into painful territory as well. She almost wanted to drop her pack and take a painkiller before heading back, but she resolved to wait until they were checked into a room first. It was a long hike back and they'd be doing it in the coming dark. With a nod of her head, Shay began leading the way, calling to Sela and Keno to follow her.

It grew dark all around them, the last of the day's light fading to give way to the brilliant velvet blue sky glittering with stars like swirling white dust above their heads. The glow of Petalburg was a presence they could see through the shield of trees and as they drew closer, they caught glimpses of the city through the forest's front line. Otherwise, they had only the stars and the ripening moon to guide them along on the trail. It wasn't until they were cresting the last hill that Sela stopped in her tracks. Shay and Keno didn't realize it until she barked at them, nearly ten meters away. Shay jumped in surprise, a hand flying to her chest as her heart skipped along like a timpani drum, only seeing the faint night shine glow of Sela's eyes in the dim light.

"Holy shit, don't scare me—" Shay began, but clamped her mouth shut when the Poochyena growled in warning.

"We're being followed," Sela hissed as she came bounding after them. Skidding to a stop just in front of her and Keno, her fur bristled and stood on end as she faced the dark trail they had just walked. Keno joined her, his tailfin stiff and rigid and his back curved over defensively.

Shay strained her eyes to try and catch any movement but failed to see anything beyond. She couldn't hear anything either, not with the faint white noise of the city just within reach drifting their way, drowning out any softer ambient noises. A glimmer of white was her first hint of something amiss. Sela and Keno alike stiffened.

"Come out and face us instead of hiding like a coward!" Sela barked viciously with steel in her voice.

"We're not afraid of you," Keno added, his tone just as bold, just as loud. Shay felt a sliver of nervousness grab hold of her before she stamped it out and told herself to suck it the fuck up. She already cashed in a moment of weakness for the day, and once was enough. She focused on her two pokémon.

"Can either of you see what it is?"

"I've never seen a pokémon like it before," Sela admitted stiffly. Keno affirmed much the same with a vigorous nod of the head.

"Same. I only ever saw Poochyena and Zigzagoon. Maybe a few Taillow and Wurmple, but…I dunno what this is."

"Well, what's it _look_ _like_ ," Shay stressed in an insistent manner. "Because all I see is white, and its fuzzy..."

"Small. White. Round head. What more do you need?" Sela said with a huff. Shay thought quickly, realizing just how stupid she was being. Route 102 was the only place in the original and remade games where a trainer could find certain pokémon, ones that were rare and had a low encounter rate…

"It's a Ralts!" She exclaimed, feeling proud of herself. Why didn't she realize it sooner? She mentally chided herself, even as she simultaneously congratulated herself on figuring it out all the same. She needed to stay on her toes, she needed to remember what pokémon were found where in Hoenn. It was this damning knowledge that was going to help her out, even if it was under false pretenses. What she really knew of this world was perhaps the only thing she had never revealed to anyone here. She couldn't risk confiding in Professor Birch, or even Norman about it.

They'd probably never believe her anyways. And even if they did…

Shay shook the thoughts from her head. Now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

The Ralts in question came closer, shuffling along on small white feet, almost waddling as it approached. It stopped when it could be decently seen by Shay, standing tall and proud…or as tall as it could stand. She could see that the Ralts would barely reach her knees. And Shay was just an inch shy of standing at five feet even.

That was saying something.

The Ralts tilted its head, each in the direction of Keno, Sela, and then Shay last of all. Tension drew taut between them all as the seconds ticked by, plodding along at an agonizing pace. Shay's mind was racing as she clawed at everything she knew to remember what moves Ralts knew. So far, she could only think of Teleport and Growl. The Ralts kept its head tilted in her direction, and at last, she swallowed, shucking aside the last of her nervousness.

"How long were you following us?"

"Long enough," the Ralts answered—the voice high yet quiet, clear and practiced. "You feel different from other people that have come through the forest."

Shay felt herself relaxing. Keno and Sela, in contrast, remained ready to leap into action, if need be. "Yeah. I guess I would."

The Ralts canted its head to the other side. "You sound like you know why."

"Probably because I do." She slowly began to unhitch her pack from her shoulder, letting it drop to the ground. At the same time, she went down to take a knee. Her aching shoulders throbbed in relief at the lack of weight crushing down on them. Her back began to throb. She'd have to relish the moment before getting back to it.

The Ralts waited for her to continue. When she didn't, it shuffled closer. Sela snarled at the wild pokémon, her muzzle curling. Keno took a step or two forward in an attempt to ward the Ralts from continuing.

"That's far enough," Sela barked. Shay gently placed a hand on the Poochyena's back. Sela flinched in response but did nothing else. She still kept her gaze and attention strictly on the pokémon across from them.

"Easy, girl." Shay murmured soothingly, then returned her gaze back to the pokémon standing before them. "Why were you following us?"

The Ralts hesitated, taking its time before answering. "I've been waiting for the right time to leave. Waiting for the right trainer to go with. None seemed interesting. Or happy. You don't seem happy, exactly either—but you feel…different from others. Nothing like I've felt before." The Ralts canted its head again. "My name's Ambrose. I want to join your team."

Keno was the first to relax his aggressive stance. He looked back at Shay, waiting. Sela remained alert with her hackles still bristling. Shay regarded the Ralts, considering the offer—and the opportunities of having a duel psychic-fairy type on the team. Ambrose seemed to sense this as well…or perhaps had read her mind.

"I know I can offer a lot in the future. I catch glimpses of what can be from time to time. We need each other. I don't want to go with anyone else. I won't ever want to, not after having felt you."

"Phrasing," Shay said on reflex as she snickered, earning a baffled look from Keno and even Sela alike. She cleared her throat, realizing that this probably wasn't the time for a joke only she understood the reference for, and dug into her pack, pulling out an empty pokéball. "Okay. I'm convinced. Ambrose, it's a pleasure to meet you."

With that said, she tossed the pokéball, and Ambrose disappeared into it. The glow of the pokéball was just as quick to vanish. The pokéball barely wobbled in protest before the chime of success sounded off in the empty air around them. Keno trotted forward, snatching it up in his mouth and returned to Shay.

"Here he is!" He said with his mouth still wrapped around the pokéball.

She took it, thanked Keno, and quickly called Ambrose out. Ambrose grinned up at her and she felt a hint of warmth spreading through her at the simple reaction.

"You won't regret this," Ambrose said, excitement and a hint of cockiness colouring his tone.

* * *

 _I don't ever want to move, I want to die. Oh, dear god, I forgot how much hiking with a full pack suuuuucks._

She groaned heavily and at length as she lay there on the bed, assessing how much she hurt. Her hips, lower back, calves, feet, and shoulders all simultaneously throbbed as though they were all wrapped in one singular welt or blister, just waiting to pop.

 _The one thing that doesn't hurt is my side. I guess I'll take it._

Last night, she had given a cursory inspection of her feet and she hadn't been entirely surprised to find actual blisters decorating the pads of her feet or in the crease between her big toe and foot. She had grimaced, but reckoned it wasn't the worst. Having one on the back of her heel, however…

That was the absolute worst. She let her feet air out overnight, hoping that the swelling would go down by morning. She had been right, by a small margin, but realized rather belatedly after waking up that she didn't have anything to care for her worn-out feet. She'd completely forgotten to stop by a store on the way back to the center and grab something for just that. And Professor Birch had completely forgotten to add anything to her pack. He probably didn't even get blisters anymore, he was so used to striking out so often, his feet were used to the abuse and calloused all over.

Gingerly pulling a pair of socks and her hiking boots back on, Shay limped her way down to the main lobby floor of the Pokémon Center to sheepishly ask a nurse at the front desk if she could possibly have some moleskin, bandages, gauze, band-aids—anything with padding that she could use for her feet. The nurse was nonplussed by the request, an understanding smile flickering across her face as she nodded to Shay, disappeared into the back, and came back not even five minutes later bearing a parcel package with her requested items.

"We get plenty of inexperienced hikers who come through here that overdo it. There's even a fresh pair of socks in there, too."

"Oh. Thanks. I was just gonna say, I'll probably need to wash my old socks and change them with a fresh pair before I leave," Shay remarked with a slightly self-conscious grin. "I'm not that inexperienced, it's just been a few months since I've taken a full pack on the road. I thought I was good to go, but I guess I underestimated things. Won't happen again, not with all this."

"Is that so? Well, I wish you luck on that," the nurse replied, smiling again. Shay felt herself hitching her breath in response, before sucking back her reply just as quickly. There was an underlying tone in the other woman's voice, a faintly snarky one hidden behind honey-sweet words. The woman was bored and had probably seen this from one too many people, heard all the excuses, and didn't seem to take any value in Shay's words. A part of her wanted to bristle, to snap at the woman, or to return a snarky, condescending reply in kind.

Instead, she suppressed the urge and stomached all the acidic little words instead of vomiting them back up on a kneejerk response and bid the nurse a somewhat stiff goodbye. She limped her way back to her room. It was housed on the third floor, but thankfully, there was an elevator that made the journey easier. She was quick to strip her boots and socks once more when she was safely tucked away inside, and set to work with treating, padding, and wrapping her toes and feet up. When she was satisfied with her handiwork, she slipped on the new socks and her hiking boots and walked around the room a few times, testing it all out.

"What're you doing?"

Shay turned at the voice coming from the bed and saw Keno, Sela, and Ambrose watching her curiously. Sela yawned, her teeth glinting in the light.

"She's got blisters all over her feet," Ambrose answered with a catty grin. Sela and Keno looked at the Ralts, but the little psychic said nothing else.

"How can you even see with that mop of fur over your eyes?"

"I don't have any eyes. I'm blind."

Keno twitched and Sela jumped to her paws in astonishment. She began sniffing Ambrose's head, while Keno leaned in closer. Even Shay was dumbfounded into silence at the admission.

"What? No way! You can't be blind! How were you even following us in the dark last night?" Keno blurted, his mouth slightly agape. Ambrose lifted a paw to pull back the shaggy seafoam green fur and showed off his pale face. Where his eyes should have been there was nothing. Fine white fur covered the orbital sockets, barely any indents where eyes should have been were visible. Ambrose was still grinning, looking very much like the cat that caught a canary as he tilted his head toward Keno first, and then Sela.

"I'm as blind as a Zubat is. Zubat use echolocation to get around. I use my psychic powers to get around by detecting life signs, feelings. Things like that. I won't be able to physically see you guys until I'm evolved."

"Oh, wow," Shay breathed out, earning herself a head tilt in her direction. "I gotta say, that's pretty amazing. Really Daredevil-esque."

In all honesty, she could have sworn Ralts had eyes, but there were plenty of things she thought she had known plenty about this place. Instead, this world has done an incredible job at proving her wrong time and again. The only consistency she could claim victory over was the general knowledge that she had been tested upon earlier in the week. Fire-types still beat out grass-types. Grass-types trumped water-types. Water-types doused fire-types.

Thinking on all that made her feel like she had taken the test years ago, not days.

"Yep. I know I'm awesome." Ambrose puffed his chest out, showing yet another proud grin. Sela snorted, her black lips pulling back into a doggish grin and her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Keno poked at Ambrose's head, disturbing tufts of his fur. Ambrose's smile dropped and he turned to face the Mudkip.

"But…how does that work, exactly? How can you have no eyes, and then have eyes? That's so weird!"

"It's called 'evolution'. You have heard of that, right?" Ambrose replied flatly as he frowned at Keno.

"Well, duh. Everyone has. Or they should have. You know…for the ones that can evolve, at least."

"Then you'll know that we change when we evolve." Ambrose deadpanned. He turned his head in Sela's direction. "I'll especially like to know exactly what you look like."

"Me? Why me?"

"You're a dark-type, right? I can't sense you. Not like I can sense Keno or her. I at least have an idea of what their shapes are, but you? You're nothing but a gaping void to me. In fact, a lot of trainers come through with dark-types like you, so I've had to learn to avoid them."

"Then why did you decide to begin traveling with a trainer who has a dark-type such as myself," Sela asked in genuine curiousity.

"There's always risk in the choices we make. Even if our types may clash, that doesn't mean my choice was wrong." Ambrose answered, a lingering smile pulling at his little lips. "At least, for now, it seems I've made a good choice. So, are we going to hang around here all day, or do we have somewhere to be?"

* * *

The Petalburg Gym was, in a word, an architectural beauty and stuck out amidst the rest of the city all at the same time. Petalburg City bloomed with gardens, parks, nature trails and more, all across the expanse of the city. The buildings themselves seemed to be tailored around the nature and not the other way around. There were leisure trails and roads that detoured around hillocks and along the coast inlet to the southwest. There were parks where people went to enjoy an afternoon or to take their pokémon for a walk. But the architecture of the buildings themselves were more subdued and bland in design. There were very few high-rise buildings that towered over most of the trees that Shay could make out, but then again, she hadn't really been actively looking.

The Petalburg Gym, in contrast to the rest of the city, felt out of place when compared to the housing or commercial buildings just down the road from it. The design was reminiscent to Japanese architecture, and she found it pleasing in comparison to the rest of the city's bland design.

"Are we really going to go in there?" Keno asked in a small voice as he pressed tightly against the back of Shay's leg. She saw him from the corner of her eye peeking out from behind her to look up at the gym looming over them.

"I'm just checking in with someone and then we'll make out way out of the city."

"But this is a gym leader's terrain, isn't it? We're not challenging them right now, right?"

"Why so nervous?" Ambrose asked with a taunting lilt.

"I'm not nervous! It's just—Shay said we're challenging a different gym in Rustboro, not here in Petalburg. At least not yet, we aren't." Keno said, looking stung and defensive as he regarded Ambrose's smirking countenance. The Ralts didn't seem concerned at all, unable to see the expression painted on Keno's face—but Shay had a rousing suspicion that the Ralts could _feel_ the Mudkip's indignance. It was, however, just theory.

She didn't know as much as she thought she did about this world and keeping an open mind was either going to make or break her.

Shay motioned to the incline of steps that awaited before them.

"All right, gang, let's head out. We're not challenging a gym today, but we are saying hello to the gym leader before we leave the city. He kind of wants to check in on me."

Shay mounted the steps, hearing the patter of Keno's paws and the clicking scratch of Sela's claws and glanced over her shoulder—only to stop in her tracks, seeing Ambrose still at the bottom of the steps.

She stared at him. He tilted his head up in her direction. A tense moment passed before she expelled a loud breath.

"Seriously?" She called down to him. He sheepishly ducked his head.

"Can I…trouble you for a lift? I don't do well with stairs. I tried them once." A beat passed. "It didn't end well."

Shay groaned but shuffled back down to scoop Ambrose up. He was quick to snuggle in against her. When she caught the glints in Keno and Sela's eyes, she groaned louder. "Seriously, you guys?"

"He's getting special treatment," Sela remarked blandly, her red eyes scooting over to scan Ambrose.

"He's _blind_."

"We have tiny legs."

"Oh, my god…"

Was it fair to say that the cuteness overload was too much to handle for Shay? Because, if someone were to ask why she had gone to the trouble of carrying all three of her pokémon up the steps instead of just recalling them to their pokéballs, she would have blamed it all completely on the cuteness overload. A Marine, she might be, but damn it all to hell, she wasn't about to deny that she had a soft spot in her heart for cute things.

When they reached the top of the staircase, Sela and Ambrose relinquished their positions in her arms grudgingly but hopped down when she lowered them to it all the same. Keno lingered the longest, having taken a perch on her shoulder and didn't seem keen on giving up his advantageous position. He rubbed his cheek against hers, whining all the while when she told him the ride was over.

"But I like it up here! Don't make me get down!"

"Keno, my dude, my little blue buddy, I'd love to let you keep on sitting there, but my back and shoulders are still adjusting to the horrid pains of carrying a pack full time and you're helping the strap dig into my flesh and bone. I'm tempted to take a painkiller and it isn't even noon yet. I already took one when I woke up, more for the hiking pack pains than for the kidney stone pains."

Keno wriggled indecisively on her shoulder, a low hum of discontent thrumming through him before he reluctantly leapt off. He cast her a forlorn look, his head sagging.

"I didn't know I was hurting you…" He muttered back, despondent.

"Aw, don't give me that look. It's not you, my little dude. I just—I didn't exactly go hiking every day in my old life. It's gonna take some time getting used to."

 _As will sleeping on the hard ground outside when we're not in a city or town. Nothing I can't handle. I've done it before, I can do it again._

She smiled reassuringly at Keno, instead of voice any more of her complaints.

"When it doesn't hurt as much, I'll let you hang out on my shoulder. Promise."

Appeased, Keno nodded enthusiastically as he turned back to face the entry into the gym.

Just as they were within feet of the door, it broke open and two forms broke through the doorway. Shay recognized the first as Norman, but the other was a young man, his hair shaggy and unkempt like he had simply rolled out of bed and left it that way. He wore casual jeans and tennis shoes along with a button up, white collared long-sleeved shirt that looked freshly pressed. His hair was a shade or two lighter than the fine fur covering Ambrose's head, a light seafoam green.

People seemed to be quite liberal when it came to having unnaturally colourful hair. Shay wondered if they were all dye jobs, or if they were somehow naturally occurring because of this world's proximity with pokémon. That, however, was a metaphysical question for another day.

Shay had a strong hunch as to who the young man might be, but she didn't want to jump to conclusions. Norman paused mid-sentence with the young man, having taking notice of Shay standing off to the side, and he spared her a smile that seemed partly relieved. The young man took notice of her as well and she visibly saw him straighten his shoulders and back at the sight of her.

"Shay. It's good to see you made it this far. I was almost starting to worry you hadn't…or that you had decided to move on and not stop by on your way out of the city."

"I figured it'd be good manners to say hello while I was in town," she replied honestly, which earned her another earnest smile from the older man. He shot a glance toward the young man beside him, as though suddenly just remembering he had been entertaining another guest.

"Sorry, where are my manners? Shay, I'd like you to meet Wallace Leander. Wallace, this is Shay Kenway. She's my niece who's been staying in Littleroot with me for the last few weeks. She's also decided to take the step forward into becoming a traveling trainer bent on taking the League Challenge."

Wallace, who looked perfectly ready to burst at the seams, jolted forward and thrust his hand out to Shay. She carefully extended her hand out and he was quick to snatch it up, pumping it animatedly.

"I am so excited to finally get to be a real trainer! I've always wanted to travel and go out into the world and just—wow! Please, call me Wally!"

With stiff shoulders and a ramrod straight back, Shay leaned as far away as she dared in shock. She could feel eyes locked on her from all angles and she simply stared, frozen, her hand locked in a tight grip as Wally continued to pump it in vigorous excitement. Up close, she could see that his eyes, now wide and fevered as they stared unblinkingly at her, they were pale and blue like clear ice chips set in arctic waters. In fact, she would even go so far as to say they would have been more at home in the face of a sled dog rather than a human. They were actually kind of pretty. It was just unnerving being pinned by them in that moment.

"Um…great. Wally. I'll remember that. I'm Shay Kenway. Just…call me Shay."

Wally finally released her hand, seemed to realize he was a bit close and took a step back. He was still beaming as he regarded the pokémon at Shay's side, staring up at him. Sela snorted loudly.

"Oh, _wow_. You've got a Ralts. I've always wanted one as a companion. Where'd you find it?"

"I picked up Ambrose off of Route 102 last night. He's the newest addition to the team. And Sela is the Poochyena, and that's Keno, the Mudkip."

"You've got an amazing team."

"I mean…I just started. But I bet we'll do just fine." Shay rebuked, holding up her hands in a mock surrender.

"You'll be heading to Rustboro soon, won't you, Shay? To challenge Roxanne? You'll have an amazing type advantage with your Mudkip!"

"Yeah. Yeah, I know."

Wally looked ready to dive into more but was shanghaied by a violent fit of coughs. He doubled over, one hand gripping a knee as he swayed over and away from all of them, while the other hand clutched at his chest. Air whistled through his chest in the form of a heavy wheeze. Shay froze, and Norman moved forward, concern rippling across his features as he reached for Wally, gently patting him open-handed on the back. The thought of an inhaler immediately came to mind and she wondered if Wally was an asthmatic.

"Easy. Take it easy, Wally. Don't overwork yourself. Remember what you told me earlier."

Norman exchanged a look with Shay and she crept closer, placing a hand gently on Wally's shoulder, giving him a few uncertain but well-meaning pats. The wheezing lingered the longest, but it began to lessen in severity as the attack, whatever it was, faded. They waited until he calmed, and every so often, she glanced over at her team. They stood stock still as they watched, Keno and Sela's eyes wide and Ambrose frowning. When Wally was able to sip down a few breaths without breaking into another coughing fit, he pulled himself back into his full height, although even then, he seemed to slouch. It made him look shorter.

"Thanks. I'm—I'm good now. Please, don't worry about me." He tried to sound reassuring, but the way his shoulders trembled implied he was less than fine. Norman hovered by the young man's side, looking extremely reluctant in stepping away from him. Wally's smile was the only indicator that finally gave him the tiny push to stop hovering at all. When he met Shay's gaze, she could see gears already working and she felt a chill sweep down her spine.

 _Uh-oh. I know that look. That's a look Gunny Hendrix used to get when he's about to assign something to me._

She liked it less when he smiled suddenly at her and the glint in his eyes brightened as he turned to face her. She had an idea of where this was going, and she Did Not Like It.

"Shay…would you mind doing your dear uncle a favour?"

 _Oh god, I hate you already. If you were my real uncle, I'd hate you. My uncle is fun and crazy. You're making me do things. The most he did was have me get a tattoo at the same place he gets his._

Shay had to resist the incredibly childish urge to stick her tongue out and stomp off down the way she'd come. Instead, she sucked in a breath, nice and slow, and put on a smile.

"Sure. What is it?"

"Can you take Wally here out to Route 102 to search for a pokémon? He's been wanting to catch one of his very own for a while, and I think he's finally ready today. Wally, I'll lend you one of my pokémon to assist you, and several pokéballs as well. Please wait here, I'll go grab them."

And just like that, Shay and her team were left alone with Wally. As soon as Norman was gone, Wally turned to her, his shoulders hitched upward in delight.

"I'm getting a pokémon. I'm actually getting a pokémon! Oh, holy crap, I'm getting a pokémon, _did you hear him?!_ "

"Relax, it's just a loaner, boot." Shay remarked flatly and with a frown added on.

Wally blinked, taken aback. Shay winced, wishing she could bite her tongue. She had to resist shooting a glare over her shoulder at the snickers she heard coming from her team.

"What? Boot? I don't…I don't know what that means."

 _Yikes. Maybe I should tone it down._

"Er…sorry. But, I mean…you're going to be getting your own pokémon, one that you catch and get to train and be friends with soon. Save your excitement for that moment. When you meet your real partner, not a loaner from a gym leader. Okay?"

Wally sharply inhaled, his lips pursed tightly together as he nodded ardently. Norman chose that very moment to return, slipping through the doorway as he rejoined them. Wally was practically vibrating, and his fingers twitched impatiently at his sides. Shay could swear she heard a tiny squeal trapped in the base of his chest just itching to rise up. She shot a glance down at her team, and Sela's lips were pulled in a doggish grin, Keno was looking worriedly at Wally, and Ambrose…

Ambrose was neutral. He tilted his head her way after a few moments, and then smiled up at her. Before she could question him, her attention was snagged back on Wally when he literally latched onto her hand and began tugging her along back down the stairs.

"C'mon, we're losing daylight!"

"Holy shit—easy, boot! Easy!"

Before he could completely yank her away, she scooped up Ambrose and peered over her shoulder to see Norman smiling at them and giving them a parting wave of the hand. She wanted to scowl and throw a nasty curse his way, but Wally had hit the street and was already leading her away from the Petalburg Gym.

"Be safe, you two!"

 _Dammit, Norman!_

* * *

Shay took a breath as she surveyed the underbrush and fields of grass spread out before them. The blades were tall enough that it obscured what may be crawling about in it, but short enough that one couldn't lose track of one's surroundings easily. The wind picked up and rolled across the grass, turning it into a waving sea of emerald with tufts of hidden gold, hiding its inhabitants jealously, unwilling to spill its secrets without some effort being put into some good old-fashioned searching. In the distance, flitting above the treetops of the forest that cupped the north end of Route 102, Shay could make out a flock of Beautifly taking flight and rising with the wind up into the sky. They quickly disappeared from sight.

"So, how do I do this, again?"

Shay turned to Wally, seeing his skinny frame rigid and still, the excitement from earlier that had him awash now suddenly dissipated, replaced by anxiety and uncertainty. He was nervous, that much was clear. Despite the years she'd experienced playing the _Pokémon_ games—right from the start with the original Red and Blue, to the newer Sun and Moon franchise—Shay herself still felt incredibly raw and new at actually being a trainer. She wasn't sure why Norman had sent her instead of coming out himself. He was more experienced, he was a seasoned trainer and a gym leader to boot and…and…

 _And oh, my god, I am a complete fucking moron. He's the gunnery sergeant and I'm the sergeant tasked out with a workload. He doesn't have to get his hands dirty if he doesn't want to, he can just dispatch someone under him to do the work for him. And I'm mentoring a goddamn boot._

The realization hit her square between the eyes and she felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. Shay stared at Wally's backside in dumbfounded amazement and embarrassment. She ducked her gaze when he glanced her way over his shoulder again, pretending she had more interest in checking out her hiking boots.

 _Should've seen this coming. Poor kid. I'd better help before he thinks I don't care._

Another idea didn't escape her notice about her predicament: this was yet another task that the player character, May or Brendan, would have needed to fulfill before they moved on to the Petalburg Woods, and shortly after that, Rustboro City in the games. The disturbing thought that she was essentially replacing May overcame her and her stomach twisted into a multitude of uncomfortable knots and it made her queasy.

Shay steeled herself and found it marginally to slip back into her role as a sergeant, she cleared her throat and stepped into the grass to join Wally. He looked positively ecstatic when she did. She clapped a hand on his shoulder twice and put a finger to her lips, indicating he'd need to be quiet.

"First thing's first. You keep talking loud like you are right now, you'll scare off potential opponents," she said, sotto voce. Wally gasped quietly and snapped his head away from her, as well as his attention, when there came a rustling from close by. He looked around wildly, craning his neck to and fro as he tried to spy what exactly was coming toward them. When he realized the noise was coming from her team joining them in the grass, he visibly wilted.

"It takes time," she added, patting his shoulder reassuringly before dropping her hand back to her side. "Sometimes you'll have pokémon that come straight for you. They want to fight. They want to get stronger. Other times, you have to go after them."

She cast a knowing glance toward Sela, and the Poochyena puffed her chest proudly, giving a curt nod of approval. Keno tiptoed closer to her, while Ambrose hung back a little, his little arms crossing over his chest as he tilted his head toward the forest proper. Shay stooped down to gently rub Keno's head. He readily leaned into the touch. Wally, in the meantime, had begun stalking through the grass, overexaggerating his steps by lifting and settling his long legs as he swept across the field. Shay stayed put, watching him as well as the surrounding terrain. Judging by the lively chorus of insect chirrups and bird cries, there was plenty of life teeming around them.

It was just a matter of finding something within their small patch of grassland. Wally wasn't long in crying out, a mixture of shock and euphoria. Everyone else sat up straight, stood up, gawking to see past Wally's gangly, wiry form. He shot a searching look toward Shay, silently pleading for help.

"Let out your loaner pokémon! Send them out!" She instructed him, her voice firm and authoritative.

Wally nodded vigorously, turned away to fumble with the pokéball Norman had given him. A burst of light and a curious chitter later, Shay felt herself relaxing. She crept closer, just enough so that she didn't have to raise her voice. Wally was surprised when he glanced over again to find her much closer. He seemed to visibly relax as well. Shay nodded to him and checked out what pokémon Norman had given him.

 _A Zigzagoon. Wait. Is that Bandit?_

"Okay, Wally. Do you know Zigzagoon's move set?"

"I think so. Tackle and Growl. This one's a low enough level it won't knock out the wild pokémon. Not in one hit, anyway."

Shay searched the field ahead of them and her shoulders tightened on reflex. It was another Ralts sitting opposite them, waiting patiently. No wonder there was a manic gleam in Wally's eyes. He returned his attention to the impending altercation once more and shouted at Bandit to attack the Ralts. The Ralts, in turn, began to glow, perhaps building up an attack, but the Zigzagoon was quick on his feet and slammed into the Ralts' midsection, sending it flying. The Ralts struggled to lift itself back up.

"Okay, Wally. Now use a pokéball on the Ralts. Don't draw this out."

"Right, okay!"

He whipped out one of the empty pokéballs from his pocket and pressed the button to expand it and threw it at the still-down Ralts. It disappeared in a flash of light and the pokéball snapped shut. Wally waded through the grass closer to watch it and whooped with joy seconds later, picking up the pokéball and brandishing it proudly.

"I caught a Ralts!"

Shay felt a smile tugging at her own lips and she heard the small murmurs of approval from Keno and Sela. Still, Ambrose remained quiet, but when Shay looked at him, she saw his arms still crossed over his chest but now…now he was smiling. As if sensing her stare, Ambrose tilted his head in her direction and the smile broadened into a knowing smirk.

 _Oh, you sneaky little thing,_ she thought. _Did you set this up?_

' _You're damn right I did,'_ another voice intruded, whispering throughout all corners of her head. Her entire skull and along the center of her neck tingled strangely but just as quickly as it had come, it went. Shay gasped, clapping her hands over her ears, eyes widening as she stared, flabbergasted, at Ambrose. She barely heard the concerned queries from Keno and Sela, barely heard Wally returning to her as the grass crunched loudly underfoot. It wasn't until something began pawing at her leg that she broke contact with Ambrose and looked down to see Keno staring up at her, pushed up on his hind legs, worry written clearly across his little blue face. Sela was over by Ambrose, sniffing him curiously, her red eyes narrowed. Ambrose frowned and gently smacked her away, earning a small growl for his troubles from the Poochyena.

"Are you okay, Shay?" Keno asked, drawing her attention again. She had to brace herself, to let out a slow breath that didn't shudder or tremble. Putting on a smile she reserved for her superiors and juniors alike, to hide any sign of discontent, she nodded to him and stooped over, picking the Mudkip up to cuddle him. He readily accepted it, going so far as to try and return the embrace with his little limbs wrapped around her neck and shoulder.

"I'm okay. Just thought I heard something. It was nothing, though. I promise."

Wally, who was standing off to the side, watching her awkwardly—as though he was searching for the right thing to say but still hadn't found it—she turned to with that smile still on her face.

"Hey. Good job on catching your very first pokémon. Why don't we head back to the gym, so you can return Norman's loaner?"

Wally brightened at the suggestion and agreed, his own Ralts secured in the crook of his arm.

As they began their return trip, Shay shot a parting look over to Ambrose, frowning.

 _When we get a chance, we are so talking about this_ , she thought, hoping it was projected enough that he heard it. She wasn't entirely sure how it worked. She only hoped that he had somehow heard her, just as he had earlier.

* * *

 _ **Additional Notes**_ **: Having a psychic-type on your team can have some advantages. Although, if we're being honest, having a pokémon that has easy access to your head is probably not all that great, especially if you want privacy.**

 **And before I hear it in the comments section,** _ **I know Ralts have eyes**_ **. I have elected to ignore this in favour of my personal headcanon. Because damn it, if some people want to give Kirlia cat-like ears instead of horns or female Gardevoir actual tits (which I will never completely understand, by the way), then I can damn well make my Ralts eyeless for the time being.**

 **Hey guys, look! Another team member has joined the party!**

 **Pokémon** **: Ambrose the Ralts, Level 3  
** **Nature/Characteristic** **: Hardy and Thoroughly Cunning  
Move Set** **: Growl**


	9. Chapter Eight: Off the Beaten Path

**Chapter Eight:  
Off the Beaten Path**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: It is officially December, my lovelies! Happy Holidays! We've almost reached the New Year!  
**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Mudkip, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts**

* * *

" _Travel far enough, you meet yourself."_  
 **-Hae-Joo, "** _ **Cloud Atlas**_ **" by David Mitchell**

* * *

The beach to the west of Petalburg, and just south of Petalburg Woods was clean and pristine to the eye. Shay breathed deep the scent of brine as she took her time strolling along the beach, and it soothed her down to her bones. It was a scent that was ever-present, if rather faintly, in Littleroot but here—it was full and fresh and something she missed so very much. Sela padded across the golden sands, trotting after the surf as it retreated and deftly dodging it as the water chased her back up the beach, her tongue lolling and her ruby red eyes bright with excitement. Keno wadded out into the waters and bobbed along the shallow surf adjacent to Shay as she walked. Ambrose was perched on Shay's shoulder as they perused the beach scene.

There were a decent number of people out and about, most of them enjoying their time outside, sunbathing, playing, or fishing. Only a handful of them were interested in battling with her. She was almost regretful of losing out on more beach time and half-wished she was able to enjoy the day at the beach more fully. But the air had a slight chill to it, and as she eyed the waters, they looked colder than she would have liked if she ever wanted a quick dip.

It took the better part of the morning to pick her way up the strip before it ended at a set of docks moored with several ships. A strip of shops and a few seaside cottages made up the end of the cove. After stopping for lunch, healing up, and restocking on a few supplies—simple first aid for her pokémon, mostly—they were on their way back on the main road that led to the woods.

 _This is definitely taking a lot longer than I anticipated,_ she mused as she scoured the map app in her x-transceiver device. A little dot representing her on the map blinked, tying into her device's geographical location using a satellite transmission. They were about a half day's hike from the divide of forest that stood between them and Rustboro City.

' _Maybe you shouldn't have spent so much time hanging out at the beach then,'_ an intrusive and smug voice whispered. She shivered, like she always did whenever Ambrose spoke to her telepathically. She wished he wouldn't do that. He claimed it was hard to not comment or even resist from listening, not when her mind was so unguarded, so open. It was instinctive for a psychic-type to learn to listen to the words left unsaid and hanging in the mental air around them.

Or so Ambrose claimed.

Shay had said nothing to Keno or to Sela so far on the matter. Ambrose had requested that much of her, and she was going to respect that…so long as he at least attempted to try and stay out of her head or kept himself from voicing her concerns aloud.

The talk they had the other night had been…enlightening. Surprisingly. It was after Keno and Sela had both fallen asleep on the bed in the Pokémon Center the night before they set out. Shay had wanted to put the Ralts on blast for the invasion of her privacy, but before she could even get a word out, he had spoken first, holding up a paw in the air in a polite request that she remain quiet, so he could get out what he had to say.

"I know what you're going to say. I've heard every word, every edit of every word, and every re-edit of every word, tumbling through your head," he had started off, talking aloud to her, perhaps so as to not upset her further. That had nearly set her off into a frenzy, but instead, she had ground her teeth together so tightly it made her jaw ache. Nevertheless, she remained quiet and had nodded curtly to him to continue.

"It's unsettling to have someone else in your head. I try not to do that. Most other pokémon don't appreciate it either, but it's difficult when your thoughts aren't exactly behind a mental barrier. The only ones that know how to block me out are other psychic-types. And dark-types, but that's only because they're our polar opposites. No one can read a dark-type's mind, it's _impossible_. For everyone else…it can take training. Or so I've heard from my mother. I've only ever willingly aligned myself with humans when I decided to come along with you. I chose _you_ for a _reason_."

That admission had quelled the surge of anger inside Shay, bringing it to a grinding halt and she felt herself drained completely all of a sudden.

"Why, though? _Why_ would you do that?"

"Because you're not from this world. You've never seen a living pokémon before. And I find that interesting as hell."

Shay had begun fidgeting at that, her mouth having gone dry, her heart dancing erratically in her chest, her hands trembling.

"I…I don't…"

Ambrose had sighed at her stalling. "Please don't lie. I know when others lie. You're basing your entire journey on the premise of a lie, but it's an effort to look for a larger truth."

"You're…kinda scary." She had finally admitted, resisting the urge to squirm in her seat on the bed.

"Thanks. I try." Ambrose had grinned at that, and Shay had seen a flicker of tiny yet very sharp little canines in his mouth. The moment of humour passed them and it was all business again. "It is true, though, isn't it? That your world is…different? You have no pokémon there…not in the conventional, living sense."

Shay hadn't wanted to continue the conversation. Not at all. She had wanted to drop the subject, but she knew remaining silent was just as damning as any verbal confirmation she could have given. Even though Ambrose was blind, she felt as though he was boring a hole into her, somehow, and a chilling tingle crawled up her spine like prickly ice. So, she had done just that; she sat there on the bed quietly, finding solace in taming her fidgeting hands by gently petting Keno at first, and then running her fingers through Sela's fur. It was soothing, to an extent, especially when they slept on, unaware of what was being spoken of.

She'd only known them for less than a week, but she already loved them. She didn't want anything terrible to happen to them, not if she could help it.

"…please don't tell them. I don't…want them to hate me. And no one else can know, either."

"If there are more humans like you out there, you know that it isn't going to stay a secret for forever. They might not react like you have. Quiet, calm, with a hint of terror guiding their actions." Ambrose had replied, exasperated and cajoling all at once.

"I know. _I know_. Whoever they might be, they're probably loudly proclaiming that pokémon aren't real, that in their— _our_ —world, pokémon are nothing but video game pixels, plushie dolls, Saturday morning _cartoon characters_! I know! I went through it when I first got here! Some of them might be diving wholeheartedly into this place, thinking it's a dream come true and that they'd better live it up as much as possible before they wake up! Some might be straight up in denial, even now! I KNOW!"

She'd gotten up to pace at that point, going back and forth like a predator locked in a cage and looking ready to pounce on anyone who dared to open the cage door even an inch. She positively snarled at Ambrose, in frustration and rage, but just as quickly as it had overcome her, it fled and she had sunk into the armchair across from the bed, exhausted. Luckily, neither Keno nor Sela awoke during her tirade, and embarrassment paired itself with her sudden bout of fatigue.

"I know that what I'm doing is insane. Lying to become a trainer, with a gym leader and a region professor's help? Attempting the League Challenge? I wasn't born in this world, but the fuck I don't know what I'm doing. If I can make it all the way to Champion—"

"—you might find a way home, by traveling out of the region and challenging veritable _gods_. Yes. You focus on that particular train of thought quite a lot when you aren't worrying about us." Ambrose was frowning as he had interrupted her, sounding almost…wistful. Sad. He shook his head, fur swishing back and forth as he did. "I'm not going to pretend I know everything. I've never traveled outside my home forest. All I have to go on are the thoughts and images I've cherrypicked from the minds of trainers and pokémon, and what my mother's told me of the world. What I do know is, it's going to be a long road ahead, for all of us. But…I think you could make it."

When he had smiled at her, genuine and without any hint of smugness, it had left Shay speechless. She felt less conflicted and less alone. Ambrose had offered her something she hadn't thought she'd be able to have, not to a complete and full extant: a shoulder to lean on. It felt strange to consider, but behind the cocky little façade he seemed to have coated himself in, he was perceptive and open-minded enough to see her worthy of being his trainer.

She had wanted to cry but berated herself instead to suck it the fuck up, which earned a knowing smile from Ambrose. She had sent him a sour look, but by the time she had crawled into bed later on, he snuggled in alongside her, patting her cheek and told her it was okay to cry if she ever wanted to, and that he wouldn't tell Keno or Sela any more than what she wanted them to know.

She still had her concerns and fears but having Ambrose and Keno and Sela around made it feel less terrifying. They trusted her. They trusted her to know things, to lead them, and that was daunting enough as it was, but at the same time…she felt secure in knowing that she had support.

* * *

"The girl is _where_?"

Norman had to fight the urge to smile, feeling a mite triumphant in wrecking the usually perfectly crafted air of cool control that Steven Stone was so famous for. Cool as a cucumber, yet calculated as hell, it was rather difficult to ruffle Steven's feathers.

And at this very moment, Steven was very ruffled.

Norman must have allowed something to slip, because Steven glowered at him through the screen, his steel grey eyes narrowed.

"Is something funny, Norman? Is there something I'm failing to find hilarious about this situation?"

"Nothing at all, Steven. I just think you're taking this all too seriously."

"This is _incredibly_ serious. We have an unlicensed and inexperienced _outsider_ running amok somewhere in Hoenn with a stolen lab starter and—" Steven fell short abruptly, his mouth clacking shut as realization dawned on him. "You let her go. Didn't you? And that starter wasn't stolen, was it?"

The monitor in his office was moderately sized, sitting upon his desk, with reams of unfinished paperwork towering either side of it. It was late, and none of the aides or trainers under his tutelage were in the building. It was simply him and his pokémon, and they were all out in the training field, idling about and waiting for him. So, at the moment, it was only him in his office, reporting in as Steven had requested on Shay's status. He had held off for as long as he could, but now he had to let the Delcatty out of the bag.

Norman stared at the monitor and at the visage of Steven staring at him from within the boxed screen, lifting his hands palms-up in mock-surrender, smiling in a conceding manner.

"I have no control over her, although I will say she's a bit of a stubborn one. Also, Steven, for the record, she isn't a little girl. She certainly isn't a child. Despite her…youthful appearance, she is a full-grown woman with her own agency."

"That is a funny little way of saying, _'I wash my hands of any responsibility'_."

"Perhaps that is what I'm saying. You said to watch her. You didn't say to make a prisoner of her and prevent her from leaving my home."

Steven closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, scowling.

"Of course. We can't make the Appeared into prisoners—but we can't let them have free reign with the world, either. They don't exactly… _belong_."

"I don't feel it's necessary to treat her as though she's an alien species. She just as human as you or I. If you wanted to treat them as such, maybe you should have snatched them all up and locked them in a lab. Or perhaps stashed them away in an underground bunker far from the prying eyes of the public. Let soldiers guard them and a cavalry of scientists poke and prod them with needles and tubes, if that's where you're going with this." Norman said as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring challengingly at Steven. The other man, to his credit, allowed some manner of abashment to cross his features.

"No. That's not what I want, either. I don't want them to be harmed and I don't want them to feel…alienated."

"Locking her up and throwing away the key would have done just that," Norman pressed. Steven sighed noisily and nodded.

"You're right. But really, Norman—letting her go? Out into the world, without any clue as to how to survive?"

"From what I've gathered in conversations with her, she's had training in survival, first aid, camping in the wilds. In fact, she made it seem as though it was a part of her job back home. I doubt that she's as fragile as you're attempting to make her out to be." He gazed poignantly at the other man. "You haven't even met her, and you're already attempting to pin her into a box without knowing a thing about her, other than her status in _this_ world."

"All right. I get it, Norman. My god, you've become quite an old curmudgeon in your age, haven't you?"

"I'm not that much older than you, son." Norman muttered sourly, mock-affronted. Steven chuckled, seeming to have deflated some.

"Right. Except, between the two of us, no one will be able to tell when I'm getting up in my age, whereas you are starting to go grey in the temples."

It was Norman's turn to scowl and Steven laughed again, looking relaxed like he usually is. Or used to be, at any rate.

"Do you know where she is, Norman? It'd be a good idea to keep tabs on her."

"I don't, not at this time."

"You're not telling me anything else, are you." It was a statement above all else. He already knew the answer, he simply wanted to hear it for himself. Norman's lips twitched at first.

"I'd rather not, no. I will say to watch your ass, though. She's intent on taking your title."

This news surprised Steven. His shoulders squared back, and his eyes widened as he processed this new information. His façade melted back into calculated caution. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly as I said. She's got her eye on the title of Champion and all that entails. I think she has it in her mind to use the connections of being Champion to travel to other regions." Norman frowned now, his face turning stony. "Like Sinnoh."

Steven's features relaxed into a neutral yet guarded mask. "So…she plans on taking what she wants by force."

"Not by force, necessarily. She's following the rules. She'll go through the gym circuit and challenge the League, through all legal channels, just like any trainer would."

"And you're not going to give us any information on her. Don't think I haven't noticed you've failed to provide even the most basic of details about her to us in the past several weeks. I don't even know her name."

Norman made a show of shrugging, feigning apologetic. "She's a rather private person. She requested I keep her information that way."

"It isn't as though we're going to broadcast it to the world."

"Regardless, I think I'd rather leave her a surprise to you all."

"Does she have any idea with what she's doing? With pokémon?"

"She's been under Birch's tutelage for the last few weeks. Apparently, he was impressed at how quickly she's picked up on everything just by proxy of being there and decided that she would be just fine on her own if she so chose. But we both know that if anyone wants to learn about pokémon first-hand, it's to get out there in the world and travel, battle other people and growing together with a team."

Steven cogitated the matter, his face betraying nothing as the seconds crawled by. Norman was tempted, as the longer his wait stretched on, to inform him of his arrangement with Birch. Steven broke the silence before he could.

"As long as you're keeping tabs on her—I'll…allow this matter to continue. I'm not a fan of it, but…perhaps we can see how well someone outside of our world adjusts."

Norman closed his eyes and sighed. So, she was just going to become another party's experiment? Of course, he couldn't very well judge on the matter.

He was letting it happen.

"I'll keep you updated," he conceded, opening his eyes. "Is that all, Steven?"

"One more thing…I want to know her name."

Norman's lips twitches and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Of course. There was always a catch. He was letting her do this, but at a price.

"Are you going to inform the others in the League? The other gym leaders?"

Steven smiled, strangely enough. It was genuine, without secrets or ill intent hiding behind it. Confusion briefly stole away inside Norman as he tried to interpret the meaning of it.

"Of course not. That would ruin the fun of everything."

"Never saw you as the type to have fun," muttered Norman. Shaking his head, he exhaled. "I suggest you commit the name to memory. She doesn't seem the type to give up easily. Her name is Shay Kenway."

* * *

Petalburg Woods loomed before them. At first, Shay saw it as an imposing mass from a distance, but as they drew closer, she began picking it apart—dissecting it by its individual trees to distract herself from the thought of the long hike ahead of them all. Her feet throbbed, especially where she still had blisters. She tried not to think about them, either, and instead counted her blessings that this wasn't a forced march, that she wasn't with her old unit and hiking nine or ten miles just for the sake of soothing and/or stroking the ego of one of her superiors. She could go at her own pace. She could set the pace, instead of being forced to follow someone else's, especially someone else who had longer legs and a larger stride than her.

Her back was beginning to hurt more as well. It's been hurting for hours, but she's been resisting the urge for just as long to down something to ease the pain. Finally, she couldn't take it any longer. Gently, she put Ambrose still riding in her arms down on the ground and threw her pack down on the ground, startling the others. They came to a halt and watched as Shay dug around in a pocket until she produced a pill bottle. Shaking out one of the painkillers, she downed it with a gulp of water from her canteen, replaced everything, and pulled her pack back onto her back.

"Okay, gang—let's skedaddle," said Shay, painting a smile on her face as she regarded her team.

She didn't want them to see her upset or in pain—not like they had the other day. She didn't want them to hear her complain either. Bitching and moaning was reserved for certain ears. She saw her team as equivalent to junior Marines. A sergeant didn't duke it out or chew another sergeant out in front of the junior Marines, not if something could be resolved in private, sergeant to sergeant. The same thing went hand in hand with bitching and moaning just to bitch and moan. If there were any troubles, she'd handle it, without complaining, without letting on that anything was wrong. As far as she was concerned, it was her role as a trainer, wasn't it?

They kept going for roughly another half hour, their pace slow and purposeful. When they reached the trail that would lead into Petalburg Woods proper, she called for a proper break. Surprisingly, Keno, Ambrose, and Sela were more than glad for the time being to simply plop down and rest just as much as her. She wasn't long in carefully peeling off her boots and then even more slowly, her socks. She hissed at the aggravated patches of red skin and throbbing blisters along her feet.

 _Haven't been hiking in a while. Jesus,_ she thought with a grimace. She let her feet air out, and checked on her blisters, careful not to disturb them. Piercing them and letting them drain was tempting, but after that was said and done, it'd be difficult to stand the rubbing of raw skin on raw skin for the rest of the day until she was able to rest up again. Shay was glad to see no new ones had formed yet and hoped it remained that way. She rewrapped them, and after pausing long enough to put on fresh socks, she began doling out snacks for the team. They dug in, tucking away the food with gusto. She did the same, taking her time until her feet had stopped throbbing.

As she ate, she rechecked her map, enhancing it to trace over the trails that trainers used, each of them that were marked for Petalburg Woods. Something gently touched her arm, resting on her to peer over the map. She caught a glimpse of blue and a flash of orange and knew it was Keno before turning to face him. He was staring at the screen.

"How much farther do we need to go?" He poked at the screen, tracing a paw across it. "It doesn't look that far to me."

"We've got a ways to go. It looks like at least a half day's walk until we're out of Petalburg Woods, and then—"

"—we challenge the gym!" Keno finished enthusiastically, wagging his tailfin and rump. He looked up at her, excitement glittering in his coal black eyes. "I'm ready! We've been training on and off since we left Petalburg! We can do this, I know we can!"

Keno's eagerness was infectious, and Shay found herself grinning broadly at the Mudkip. "Easy, bud. We still have to make it through the woods. And there's at least one grass-type in there we have to watch out for. Shroomish."

She didn't even need to look it up. The fleeting thought that she was tracing the journey that a player character in a _Pokémon_ game proper would be undertaking crossed her mind, and not for the first time. She decided to try and ignore that for as long and as much as possible, telling herself it wasn't the same. _Denial is the name of the game and oh, god, I really don't wanna think about it._

Her thoughts instead turned to the aforementioned grass-type, Shroomish. It could use a multitude of powders that could incapacitate in several ways: sleep, paralysis, poison. She did a mental inventory on all her supplies, almost to a feverish tune until she had the mantra down to pat: awakening, paralyze heal, antidote. Paranoia and deep-set anxiety were just some of the things the good old armed forces gave to her in her last ten years of service. And severe manic anxiety-depression one-two hit combo.

She tried to shake that particular thought off.

"Let's try to get out of here in the next five minutes," she announced, already beginning to pack up her things. She let her team finish off their food, stretch, get ready for the next leg of their journey. Just as she threw her pack onto her back, she saw a flicker of movement flitting about just beyond the tree line. It was small, but it was fast, just a shadowy smudge to the eye. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and an electric tingling trickled down her spine.

She ran through a mental checklist of known species of pokémon that showed up in the Petalburg Woods. Nothing big or predatory, nothing like that early on. That didn't mean there wasn't anything relatively dangerous in the area. She was still worried about Shroomish and their concoction of powdery attacks that could incapacitate them.

 _What else, what else?_ She wracked her brain. _Slakoth, Wurmple, Cascoon, Silcoon…Zigzagoon and Taillow._

It was possibly that what she saw was a Taillow. It was the only flying-type that could glide easily through the trees.

 _Unless it's a Dustox or Beautifly. I mean, forest full of Silcoon and Cascoon and Wurmple and none of them evolve into their final stages? C'mon, that's not realistic._

Neither was being able to speak to creatures that had previously been fictional to her up until a few months ago, but that was neither here nor there. She had to make the best of things and keep moving forward. A gentle series of pats and pulls on her leg startled her, and she looked down to see Keno staring up at her.

"Are you okay? You've been staring into space for the last couple of minutes."

Shay knit her brow together, feeling her face heat up in embarrassment.

 _Get your head out of the clouds_ , she chided herself, even as she offered the Mudkip a placating smile.

"Yeah, just…got distracted. Thought I saw something."

"Oh, you saw something all right. It's heading this way," Ambrose stated rather matter-of-factly. Sela and Keno both turned to face the Ralts, who had his little arms crossed over his chest. Sela narrowed her eyes at him, then began sampling the air with pointed sniffs, her black nose quivering as she swayed it to and fro, her ears swiveling about. Startled, she turned to Shay, and confirmed much the same.

"I hear flapping. Must be a flying-type," she relayed to Shay.

"Taillow are pretty common," she muttered, more to herself, eyes ping-ponging back and forth across the tree line, searching between the shafts of light and pillars of shadows beneath the emerald canopy. What came at them was fast—faster than Shay expected it to be.

Ambrose was the one who got the warning in seconds before they were hit by the fast-moving projectile. The rush of air following it cut over the four of them. Into the sunlight the fast-moving creature flashed, its dark wings cutting a slim silhouette, arcing through the wild hot blue sky.

"Definitely a Taillow," Shay confirmed, her heart thundering like cannon-fire, beating a tattoo against the inner curve of her ribs. Whether it was from the sudden shock and awe moment of the Taillow's arrival, or from the rush of adrenaline roaring through her body and making it thrum in excitement, she wasn't quite sure. What she did know was that they were being attacked, and they needed to defend themselves.

 _Correction: they'll be defending me, since I can't do jack shit,_ Shay thought sourly as she glanced at her team. A part of her was tempted to drag her switchblade out, but stifled the temptation. She'd probably end up becoming a bigger target if she did that. And that wasn't going to solve anything.

Sela was a bundle of bristling fur, while Ambrose simply thrummed with a faint glow of psychic energy, and…Keno didn't look as ready as the other two. He didn't bristle and quiver with pent up energy as he had the night when they had met Ambrose. Keno was staring at the circling Taillow, his head turning in time to the pirouetting flying-type, curiousity painted on his face.

She didn't have time to ponder his complacency, even when it burned her up on the inside. She had to tamper down the kneejerk response to snap at him to get moving, to do _something_. Shay had to remind herself that Keno wasn't one of her junior Marines, that she couldn't just… _yell_ at him for the sake of yelling. It wouldn't have been right, in so many ways. It would have reminded her of too many jackasses that did just that to her when she had been a junior Marine…

 _Keep your cool, keep your cool, focus on what's circling above us like it's a damned red-tailed hawk from back home._

The Taillow tipped its wings and began angling itself back their way with a scream. If anything was said, nobody seemed to hear it. Instead, Shay felt something in her snap in response to the little bird's war cry.

"Keno, use Water Gun! Ambrose, see if you can't hit it with Confusion! Sela, when it gets close enough, use Fire Fang!"

The Taillow whirled out of the way of the gushing torrents of Water Gun attacks shot its way, but it took a few hits from the quick blasts of Ambrose's Confusion attack. That seemed to slow it down, but not by much. It was still charging them with reckless abandon. A faint glint of an aura began to encircle its little body, growing brighter by the second.

"What is…that?" Shay muttered, a sense of dread beginning to grow like ice in her gut and make the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. The air shrieked as the glow grew brighter, bigger, until it was a hot blue that nearly dissipated the Taillow's silhouette from view. Her gut clenched and her shout for everyone to get down and out of the way came too late: the Taillow came blasting through in a blaze of glory, the air ringing with pure energy. The Taillow blew them all down, its aim true and hitting all three of her pokémon and threw Shay off her feet. They all went flying as the Taillow pulled up with a sharp tilt of its streamlined wings, the blue glow now gone from its body.

Shay saw double of everything, her head was ringing, her back and hips aching fiercely as she pushed herself back up, trying to find the flying fiend that was attacking her and her team. She heard one of them shouting, but it was difficult to hear who it was; her ears were both muffled completely and still ringing. She squeezed her eyes shut, popped her jaw open and closed several times, trying to get it all to go away.

' _You might want to get up now! We need help!'_

That voice was crystal clear as it overrode the ringing in her skull. Ambrose. Without opening her eyes, she snapped off an order, pushing herself up into a more proper sitting position.

"Keno, Water Gun attack! Shoot that damn bird outta the sky!"

While her voice still sounded distant even to her ears, she was regaining her hearing, slowly but surely, and the sounds of combat were beginning to come back. Another round of shrieking began to pick up in strength, heralding the Taillow closer with each passing second.

"Ambrose, Confusion! Sela, see if you can't Tackle it from the side as it gets closer, throw that Taillow off course!"

When she opened her eyes, she found one of everything—the way it should have been—just as the sight of the Taillow came crashing to earth, wreathed in the radiant blue glow whilst under heavy attack. Keno kept up a barrage of Water Gun attacks, Ambrose threw down with a barrage of Confusion attacks, and Sela timed her Tackle attack perfectly. She leapt into the air, colliding with the bird and managed to knock the Taillow off kilter, throwing its attack completely off. She was just as quick to follow up with a vicious Fire Fang attack. The dust kicked up and Shay jumped to her feet, sliding the straps of her pack off as she scrambled over to the heart of the battlefield.

Her team had the downed Taillow surrounded, each littered with their own series of gashes and cuts, each one weeping trails of red from them. Shay stared at them all, frozen, thunderstruck, before she slowly pulled out an empty pokéball and tossed it at the little Taillow. The pokéball barely wobbled after the Taillow was sucked into it, then stilled seconds later. A chime burst into the air, clear and tinny, but damning in its victory.

Shay let off a shaky, relieved exhale as she tiptoed closer and gently picked up the pokéball. Keno and Sela watched her, their eyes never leaving her. Ambrose tilted his head in her direction, a little smile painted on his white face.

"That was intense."

"That's an understatement," Ambrose retorted. Shay let off a stilted laugh.

"Yeah. Yeah, you said it."

She stared at the pokéball, the trembling in her hands beginning to fade. She glanced at the others, clipped the pokéball to her belt, and went back to her pack.

"Let's get you guys fixed up before we head out. We've got a long day ahead of us, and it's more than halfway over." She paused, a potion bottle in hand as she looked back at her team whilst they began to make their way to her. She smiled at them. "Great job. Really. You all did fucking fantastic."

They each beamed with pride in their own way. Shay fixed up the bigger wounds first before moving onto the smaller cuts and lacerations. An interesting difference she found in this world from the games themselves was the medicines used on pokémon. A potion vial, for example, was simply sprayed on a cut, although depending upon how deep and severe the wound was, it didn't just magically went away. Instead, it accelerated the healing process exponentially. Deeper lacerations or gashes couldn't be fully healed with a potion vial and while stronger medicines were available, they were limited to who was authorized to buy them. More severe injuries, such as broken bones, ruptured organs, or disease still needed to be treated at Pokémon Centers, and couldn't be reliably fixed by spray-on medication bought at a Pokémon Mart.

When Shay's team were secure in their dressings, she unclipped the newest team member from her belt and let them out. The Taillow stood still as stone, staring up at her, feathers slowly puffing up until the bird was nothing more than a fluffy poof-ball with wide, staring eyes. Shay could barely keep the smile from her lips as she pulled up another potion and waggled it in hand.

"Hey there. Sorry about that rough time you had with us. How about I fix you up before we get going?"

The Taillow said nothing, but did deign to look at the others, wordless in her inspection. While the Taillow was distracted, Shay did her own examination of the Taillow, tilting her head to see there were singed and sopping wet feathers alike in the mix; evidence of both Keno's and Sela's respective attacks. The Taillow turned back to face Shay, then nodded to her, slowly flattening feathers. Shay was slow in her work and took her time to ensure she didn't miss anything.

When she was finished, she packed up the discarded and empty potion bottles into another compartment of her pack. As she did, she asked the Taillow, "Do you have a name?"

The Taillow stared at her, as though contemplating how to answer. Keno came closer, drawing the Taillow's attention on him.

"You can tell her. She can understand you."

Feathers ruffled up once more, tilting her head to stare at Keno with one eye, looking dubious as she asked, "She can?"

"Yeah, it's great, right?"

The Taillow turned back to Shay, staring at her face for a few moments longer before answering her.

"Call me Faye."

"Faye it is, then. Welcome to the team!"

* * *

 _ **Additional Notes**_ **: Faye caused me a great deal of pain in-game. She had a scary arsenal of attacks, since she was one of those "special pokémon" type deals that popped up and then you could sneak up on for said scary arsenal attacks in** _ **Pokémon Alpha Sapphire**_ **. She nearly wiped my team out, for realsies. I had to switch them up a few times, heal them up, and use all three to take Faye down.**

… **It probably did not help that my team were all under level 10 and Faye was level 14. But my team fucking won, so there.**

 **Pokémon** **: Faye the Taillow, Level 14  
** **Nature/Characteristic** **: Serious/Alert to sounds  
** **Move Set** **: Brave Bird, Peck, Growl, Focus Energy**


	10. Chapter Nine: A Walk in the Woods

**Chapter Nine:  
A Walk in the Woods**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes:_ Whoo, boy. This chapter was a long doozy! It took me a while to complete, mostly because of the length, but also partly because I've been on and off with writing during my fall semester. I've mostly focused on my writing assignments, pre-production storyboards, scripts, and video game development pipelines for all my classes. Oh, and immunology. Science is fun. **

**So is losing weeks' worth of sleep to complete my storyboard project. *ugly distant sobbing***

 **But, enough about that! Let's get on with the chapter, my lovelies! Please enjoy it, and don't forget to leave a comment or constructive critique in the review section! Give a little love, pay it forward! Oh, and thank ou again to my lovely reviewers from last chapter, I greatly appreciate it and I'm always happy to hear from you guys!**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Mudkip, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow**

* * *

 _The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
_ _But I have promises to keep  
_ _And miles to go before I sleep  
_ _And miles to go before I sleep  
_ **\- "** _ **Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening**_ **" by Robert Frost**

* * *

Petalburg Woods were dark and deep, even during the day. Trails had been blazed through, manicured enough to allow trainers to forge through unhindered, yet wild enough that it didn't take away from its natural beauty. It was a strange balance that achieved both touches of civilization and natural wildness in equal amounts. There was enough tangled underbrush that dissuaded the nosier of individuals from delving deeper and further away from polite society. It was like taking a walk in a national park; she imagined that officials probably scoured the place every once in a while to maintain the wilderness and keep it in check, but with as minimal interference as possible.

It would take at least a day to wade through the natural landscape and navigate their way to the outskirts of Rustboro City. Shay was nervous with pent-up energy, emboldened by the stunning battle earlier with Faye, and then promptly realizing they'd have to make up for lost time.

Now that they were well in the embrace of the woods, she was retracting her earlier decision to keep going a little after dark and then pitch camp. It would be completely stupid to up the risks of injury and attack. That, and…she wasn't a fan of bugs. And she was beginning to realize and remember that the world of pokémon had _huge_ insects. Insects that were, perhaps larger than even her world's _prehistoric_ insects. Remembering that gave her the heebie-jeebies.

She suddenly sympathized with Misty and felt her skin crawling at the thought of any bugs trying to get on her, especially in the cover of darkness.

"Are you all right, Shay? You look like you've seen a ghost." Sela said, breaking Shay out of her thoughts. She shook her head in response, swallowing down her unease. Even the idea of being within several feet of a giant creepy-crawly made her skin prickle in disgust and fear.

"Uh…no. No, I'm…okay. Just…not a fan of bugs, I just remembered." Shay answered truthfully. Sela offered her an all-too toothy grin.

"Aw, they're not so bad. They're a bit slimy-tasting, sure, but once you get past the first few bugs, they're rather pleasing to sink your fangs into."

"Ewww. You eat bugs?" Keno stuck his tongue out at Sela, even in the face of her devilish smile.

"When pickings were slim, my pack and I couldn't exactly afford to pass up any kind of meal that came our way. Bugs just happened to cross our paths many times."

"I guess when the going gets tough, the tough eat bugs," Ambrose quipped. Faye, perched upon Shay's shoulders, ruffled her feathers and issued a lilting laugh.

"You might not care for them, but for us Taillow, it's a smorgasbord. Bug-types truly are for the birds."

Shay stuck out her tongue. "I'm with Keno on this. You two are like, Timon and Pumbaa, and are gonna start singing _Hakuna Matata_ any moment now, and—is Keno going to play Simba? That seems a bit weird, since he's not a cat…" She realized the stares she was suddenly getting and laughed. "Sorry. It's from a movie I saw as a kid. These two characters, Timon and Pumbaa, they liked eating bugs. A lot."

"Do you think we can watch it when we get to Rustboro?" Keno asked, staring at her so earnestly, it melted Shay's heart a little bit more. She honestly wanted scoop him right up in her arms and snuggle him just for that adorable look he gave her. The elation died quickly as the full force of what he'd asked finally hit her.

"Oh…I'm sorry, it's…a really old movie. I doubt anyone's playing it anymore."

Keno watched her for a long moment, saw the small shake she gave him and understood in that small notion. "That's too bad. I would love to see it."

"Yeah, it is. Must be pretty dang old if even television won't play it. And I've heard from Professor Birch that TV will play _anything_."

"Just how old are you? I can't really ever tell with human ages," Faye interrupted, turning her beak towards Shay's cheek and lightly tapping it. Shay instinctively reached up to pat the Taillow, only to earn a quick, yet effective nip that told her absolutely, positively "NO TOUCHING." She just as quickly dropped her hand, getting the message.

Shay, having grown up with a practical circus of pets in her life, has had experience with birds. Parrots that weren't comfortable with someone reaching for their head or their backsides were afraid of predators, or so she's been told. A hand going for those vulnerable areas was the same as a hawk coming down from above for them. Instinct told them to strike back. For Faye, that might not just be instinct alone, but personal experience. She would have to take her time to earn Faye's trust. Rushing and forcing it would only splinter the tenuous bridge they've only just begun to build toward one another.

"Sorry. Got it," she said to the little bird, to which Faye replied with a simple ruffle of her feathers in approval. "And to answer your question, I'm twenty-seven. It's not an old age, but it's not a super young age either."

"Most travelers that come through are…younger, then, I think." Faye said softly. "But there are some that are inherently older than you, as well."

"So, basically, it's a mixed bag. What keen observation you've provided us," Sela replied dryly with a flat look aimed at the Taillow. Faye's feathers puffed up in agitation as her clawed feet dug sharply into both Shay's shoulder and the strap of her pack.

"Easy, Sela. That's enough. We already know this is a popular trail for trainers to blaze on through. Their ages don't matter, but their skill does." Turning her head just a smidge to look at Faye, who was smoothing her feathers back down, bit by bit, she continued, "Have you had eyes on that, at least? Any strong trainers versus…well, not so strong?"

"Eloquent as always, our trainer is," Sela said with a sigh. Shay shot the Poochyena another warning look. Even Keno gave her a light push in the shoulder. Ambrose laid a paw on the Poochyena's other shoulder and her muzzle, which had begun to curl, dropped back down. Sela turned her red eyes on the Ralts, who simply motioned for her to stop. She snorted but did nothing else, finally seeming to get the message.

Shay waited until the moment had passed before turning her attention back to Faye. The Taillow, satisfied she wouldn't be interrupted, finally replied. "My last round through Petalburg Woods was about a day ago, but as far as I saw, there weren't many trainers traipsing through. Not very many that looked all that strong, anyways. Quite a number of them use bug-types."

There was a hungry gleam in the little bird's eyes as she said this. Shay cleared her throat.

"You're not eating another trainer's pokémon, bug-type or not. Let's show some common courtesy and try not to kill them either. It's considered rude where I come from."

Ambrose tilted his head, just enough to show off the little knowing smirk that Shay caught sight off. She frowned back, then sighed.

"We should get going. We've got less than six hours before it gets dark. I'd like to get through most of this forest before we camp out for the night."

* * *

"We didn't hit our target mark today. Damn it!"

Shay was scrutinizing the map on her x-transceiver with a hard frown and a clenched jaw. She was never good at math on the fly. It was a horrid subject that she was weak in without a calculator or consistent practice, but if she took her time, she eventually got to the conclusions she aimed for. It was a slow, agonizing process—but calculating where she was on a map, as well as the distance between her and a goal, that was relatively easy. Utilizing landmarks, dead reckoning navigation, number of steps taken, and so forth were all just systematic tools one could use when traversing the land.

Looking at the map now, she saw they had fallen short of the goal she had set by about two miles.

 _That means we have to add two more miles to our hike for tomorrow, and that sets us back at least by two, maybe three hours—_

"You're overthinking things again."

Startled, Shay looked up from her device, scanning the area. It had been Ambrose, she was sure of it, and when she spotted him, she was about to chide her for speaking to her telepathically again. She stopped short when she saw other pairs of eyes on her, their faces aglow from the light of their campfire, all of them having stopped eating to stare at her. Her own food remained untouched, barely a dent put in its mass. She belatedly realized that Ambrose had spoken aloud for all to hear.

She reapplied her stare back on Ambrose, frowning. "We didn't hit our mark today," she repeated dejectedly with a heavy sigh. "We should be camping at least two miles further from here."

"Relax. We did good today, considering the amount of times we've had to deal with unplanned fights, we should probably start putting in cushion time for battles on our hikes between towns," Ambrose said breezily, offering a lopsided grin. He waved a paw in her direction in a flippant manner. "You _do_ know how to relax, don't you?"

"I do. But we're falling behind schedule and—"

"Is there really a schedule? Is every moment of your life planned out, down to the very second?" Faye interrupted sharply, tilting her head to the side. Judging from the curious stares pinning her down, Shay realized they weren't used to the rigors of having every second planned out, every minute scheduled accordingly.

She knew how it felt to make plans, backup plans, backup plans to those backup plans and so on and so forth. A decade in the military has had her revolving her life around such nuances and being prepared to have the floor blown up right from under her feet in a veritable shitstorm if plans went south.

Shay felt herself flushing in embarrassment. "No. But I…I need to stick to this schedule."

That sounded lame, even to her ears. She wished she had formed that better, in her head first, before she had even said anything.

"Just you? Or do all of us matter at all?"

Shay groaned. "That's not—I mean, I don't mean it like that, I just…"

She glanced Keno's way, and then surveyed Ambrose and Sela, and Faye lastly. She froze up, the words sticking her throat like shards of bone catching. Only Ambrose knew the full extent as to why she was doing this. Even Keno had some ideas, but Sela and Faye? Looking at them and their expectant yet quizzical expressions reminded her that neither of them realized why she was so bent out of shape for a small bump in her plans.

Keno offered a smile and a nod of encouragement. "You can tell 'em what you told me. It's okay."

The others glanced at him. Faye cocked her head to the other side. "Tell us what?"

Shay hesitated, the decision weighing heavily in her chest like a heavy stone. The back of her throat felt dry and agitated, and faintly like bile as the nervousness bubbled up in her stomach. She curled and uncurled her fingers, lest she cut her palms with her fingernails and wiped the sweat that broke out on her palms on her pants.

"I'm…I'm not…I'm not from this world. I wasn't born in Hoenn. Or in any other region in this world. I come from a place that has no pokémon, whatsoever. It has animals, and some of them look like pokémon, but they can't use psychic powers, they can't breathe fire or create ice, or bend space and time." Shay tried to ignore the shaking in her hands, the staring eyes boring into her. She kept her gaze trained on Keno, who grinned wider at her in reassurance. Somehow, she found that encouraging and she continued. "I know that sounds strange, but it has something to do with the Creation Trio in Sinnoh. They're…disrupting things in this world and it's somehow affecting mine at the same time. And the more time I take to becoming Champion—"

"—the less time you'll have in having access to the Creation Trio Palkia, Dialga, and Giratina." Ambrose finished with flair, cutting off Shay. The other three looked at him, surprised. Sela was the first to react, her ears plastering themselves against her skull.

"Should've figured you'd know something about this before any of us. It's nearly impossible to hide things from psychic-types."

"All except from you pesky dark-types," Ambrose replied amicable, reaching over to tap Sela affectionately on the nose. She snorted and drew back, rubbing a paw over her nose as she narrowed her eyes as the Ralts. Keno closed the short distance between himself and Shay, jumping into her lap. She quickly wrapped her arms around him, finding comfort in having someone to hold.

"It's okay, Shay. We'll figure this out. How about we don't take breaks tomorrow? We just keep going!"

She smiled in spite of herself. "Naw, that's not fair to any of you. I'm sorry I'm being such a stick in the mud about this shit. I just…have a lot on my mind—"

"—an understatement, really," Ambrose drawled.

"—but maybe it's better if I get things out in the open and clear the air with you all. We're a team. And keeping things from you guys, it wouldn't be fair at all."

Shay felt her heart fluttering against her ribcage, more so out of nervousness than out of fear, as she stopped herself from going into a blundering rant. She took in a shaky breath and let it out with a shudder, the palms of her hands still unnervingly sweaty. She wiped them on the fabric of her pants once again, waiting as the others absorbed what she had just told them. Rather, it was really only Faye and Sela she was waiting on.

Keno and Ambrose were already in the know. They seemed to have accepted this on their own terms since she told them. Keno was enthusiastic in assisting her back home, and Ambrose…he was keeping things close to the vest on how he truly felt about it.

When neither Faye nor Sela said nothing, she swallowed, trying to chase away the dryness that had made home in her mouth and throat. She eventually took a long draft of water from her canteen before speaking.

"Do…any of you have any questions you'd like me to answer?"

"How long have you…been here? In our world?" Sela began carefully, her red gaze piercing. Faye fluttered her feathers and shivered her wings, her gaze equally as piercing. She only broke it to peck at her food before laying it back on Shay.

"Um…less than three months. Give or take a week or two."

"That's not very long," Faye remarked with another twitch of her wings. She paused, listening to the distant howls of a Poochyena pack. Sela's ears flicked.

"They're miles away." she stated matter-of-factly, as though to ease any nervousness anyone had. "They're hunting, but they're moving away from us. We'll be fine. My next question is why you think doing this…being a trainer…would get you home?"

"If she becomes Champion, she can do whatever she wants. She can go wherever she wants. She'll have the respect amongst other Champions and they can do little to challenge her authority if she were to, say, go meddling with the Creation Trio. They're disrupting things in the world. I know you can feel it in the earth, taste it in the air, same as me." Ambrose broke in, tilting his face towards Sela and Faye respectively. They said nothing, and for a moment out of shock, neither did Shay. Keno stirred in her lap, the first to react. He stood, bristling as he regarded the other three.

"We'll get Shay home! And she promised she wouldn't leave us behind, so, we have to help her!"

The earnestness damn near broke her heart because she didn't really know if bringing any of her team back to her world would be a smart move. But leaving them behind would be utterly heartless. It was a gut-wrenching decision she knew she'd have to make eventually, when the time came. A lump grew in the back of her throat, hard and painful, as she thought on the moment she'd have to make that kind of choice. She had to scrub it from her head, and instead had to focus on what was immediately in front of her, on what things she could control.

She wrapped her arms around Keno, surprised at how warm his little body was.

"I won't leave you guys behind. I know I'm new to this whole 'trainer' thing, but I promise I won't abandon you. If you want to leave the team, I won't stop you. If you want to sit out of a battle, that's fine too. But I'll my best to keep you in top health, and if I see a situation I think you can't handle, I won't let you throw yourself at it and get yourselves killed over nothing. We have to be smart about how we tackle each battle with other trainers and wild pokémon alike."

"Sounds like a smart idea. But perhaps we should continue along that line of thought in the morning. It's getting late, and you humans tend to prefer daylight hours. Sleep." Sela announced dryly, looking pointedly at Shay. Another wolfish grin lifted her black lips upwards to curl her muzzle. "I'll take the first shift. Who wants to take the one after me?"

"I can take it. Just wake me when you're done." Ambrose replied, tilting his head toward the Poochyena. Turning back to Shay, he waved a white paw at her, his lips curling upwards. "Let's get some rest. We've got a lot of miles to put behind us tomorrow when we start hiking again."

"I'll wake us at first light," Faye finished, giving a nod to the others when they looked at her. She shrugged a wing at their curious stares. "I'm early to rise, and the early Taillow gets the Wurmple."

"Right. I guess that settles it." Shay said, feeling a weight lifting from her chest and shoulders. In all honesty, she had thought that there would be more questions, more probing inquiries. Keno wriggled in her lap, twisting around to look at her with a wide grin. That simple action gave her a jumpstart in the courage department. It solidified her resolution that this was the best course of action. She had made the right decision, had chosen the right partner. She hugged the little Mudkip and he buried his face into her shoulder. Small comforts could go a long way.

* * *

"How big are these woods, travel-wise?"

"To a Taillow or to a human?"

"Human."

Faye preened one of her wings, as though she was stalling for time. "Mmm. Most humans who are in good health can traverse through the woods in less than a day, if they start south and head north at first light. Or go north and head south. Either or."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Keno remarked as he trotted ahead of Shay. "We're already in the middle of the woods, so we should be out sooner!"

"He's not wrong," Ambrose said. Shay shrugged, feeling Faye's wing brush against her cheek as she did.

"He's not," she agreed.

An early morning fog had rolled in from the ocean to the west and now carpeted the forest. Coupled with an overcast sky, they were beset upon a perpetual morning twilight. Sela was trotting ahead of them, sniffing out and chasing away any threats from their path. Keno would step in every once in a while if a certain persistent enemy kept on with them. Whenever the scent of a human came up, Sela would announce it before they crossed paths.

The faint smell of brine was evident in the morning breeze, and the fog rolling off from the ocean was growing thicker. It remained with them on the forest floor, making navigation slower than Shay would have liked. It remained like that for the first hour but began to slowly dissipate as the morning pressed on into later hours. In the interim, Shay came across several trainers who immediately demanded a battle, no questions asked.

It was titillating how easily dispatched they were when Shay threw Sela into the fray, as most of the young trainers were fond of bug-types filling their ranks. The woods were equally filled with, predictably, bug-types. Thankfully, her team was more than enough to dispatch of any creepy-crawlies and keeping them well and far away from Shay. Fire Fang was a very useful move when going to bat against the bug-types in the forest, and there were plenty of them, trainer registered or wild alike. Shay figured she'd gather a tidy enough profit by the time she got to Rustboro with the way things were going. Every once in a while, Shay would spot a Slakoth or Taillow hanging out in the branches of trees, snoozing or eating away as they passed by.

She made sure to gather their data on the pokédex, as requested by Professor Birch. She was aware of her secondary duties and wouldn't skimp out. In the next few days, she'd have to report everything she could to him. It could either be at a Pokémon Center, or it could be done via the pokédex itself, if facilities were lacking. Professor Birch had been insistent with his preference to her using the centers.

By the time noon came crawling by, the mist had dissipated completely, leaving the forest clean and clear. When that time came around, Shay called for a short break to check for injuries, to eat, and rest. When Shay cleared Faye, she had her fly up to give them a report on their location and corresponded that information with her map.

"We are almost through. Just another hour, maybe less, before we're out," she happily told the others as they munched away on snacks and Faye had returned. The Taillow preened herself on Shay's shoulder, puffing her chest proudly when she finished. Shay began to peel away her boots and socks, carefully checking on her blisters and their wrappings before allowing them to air out.

"And it'll be another hour before we're able to get to Rustboro, at the most. If we don't get stopped by anymore trainers, but knowing our luck so far, I doubt it," Faye added with a clack of her little beak. They finished the rest of their food off without preamble, although it was just as Shay finished lacing her boots back up that she was alarmed by the sudden bleating cries for help on the path ahead. She looked to her team and saw the same expression painted on their faces asking the same thing: _I wasn't the only one who heard that, right?_

With a groan building up at the bottom of her diaphragm and expelling outwards past her lips as she hauled her pack up onto her shoulders. She winced when the cry came again, closer this time.

"I think it's safe to say we're entering horror film territory. Anyone want to vote on whether we skirt past it all or should we just go barreling in?" Shay remarked facetiously. Looks were exchanged before the consensus was silently passed. She sighed as she hauled her pack back onto her aching shoulders. "Okay, we're going to head toward the voice and imminent danger."

"Aw, what's the matter, Princess? Scared of a little screaming?"

Shay cast a sour look toward Ambrose. She knew he couldn't see her face, but it made her feel better regardless. Besides, she was sure her annoyance was felt well enough by him. That was enough for her.

Ambrose simply grinned at her, as though in answer.

"Do I sound scared?" Shay finally asserted gruffly.

"Terrified. Utterly and completely," he replied flatly as she began picking up the pace. Sela and Keno began trotting alongside her. Shay paused just long enough to scoop Ambrose up in her arms.

"Might wanna check again, because I'm far from terrified. Let's go help the helpless, and all that jazz." She paused, glancing at the little smug-looking Ralts before adding with a mumble, "And don't call me 'Princess.' I hate that shit."

* * *

They weren't long in running down the trail, and they weren't too late, either. From a distance, Shay could make out two distinct people: one on the ground and the other standing over them. From afar, it might have looked like the one on the ground was being helped up by the person hovering above, but as she got closer, it was anything but a helpful hand being given to the fallen individual. They were being hauled upwards, their shirt fisted in hand by the one overshadowing them.

She stopped dead in her tracks as she ogled the scene before her. She could feel her skull suddenly flaring to the tempo of her heartbeat as it rose higher and higher up in her chest, until it lodged itself in her throat and stayed there. She froze, like a statue, unable to move even as the uniformed figure took a swing at the downed individual at their feet. The crack of knuckles striking bone and meat sounded so preternaturally enhanced in the space between them all, and that space felt so damningly claustrophobic in the span of several seconds, like distance meant nothing.

The voice snapped her back to the here and now, and she looked down to locate the source. Keno. It was Keno. He wasn't the only one who had their gaze fixed on her. She found her entire team looking at her, looking for decisiveness and leadership, although from the expressions painted on the faces…

Taking in small sips of air, Shay ignored the tremble in her hands, the shaky weakness of her legs, the tightening discomfort of knots forming in her gut. Adrenaline, she had once heard, had nothing to do with giving fits of super strength or speed or what-have-you to a person. She had once heard that it was entirely detrimental to a person's health rather than helpful in stressful situations that required a fight-or-flight reaction.

Shay wasn't sure if any of that was true, but with each step, she found strength building back up into her muscles and she found a steely resolve with every beat of her heart. If this was adrenaline, she more than welcomed it. She was going to damn well need it.

Neither party ahead of her seemed to notice her, which was fine by her.

 _Suck it the fuck up, Marine. Get in there. You signed up to run toward chaos, didn't you? There's chaos right fucking there._

When she had gone to Sergeant's Course nearly three years ago, one of her last major excursions toward the end had been spent in the woods just outside of Quantico. All throughout the day, her team and had spent their time hiking up and down the hills and gullies and gulches that littered the expanse of land. Intermittently, each Marine in the team had been provided with various scenarios as they were given leadership roles by their Staff Sergeant.

Shay remembered hers quite well: she had to deal with the warring desire of her subordinates, who had wanted to beat the absolute shit out of prisoners of war that had been captured, but not without the cost of Marines' lives. They had wanted blood, the rules of warfare and the Geneva Convention be damned. They would have preferred to satiate their desires for vengeance rather than to observe that they were about to commit war crimes against unarmed enemy combatants.

That scenario had been more than just a doozy.

That hour had been a spell of anxious excitement and more that involved her, as the leader, pushing aside several men twice her height and nearly three times her weight, shouting at the top of her lungs, in an effort to gain control of the situation. She had had to play interference with them while barking orders at the top of her lungs at others to restrain those frothing at the mouths, baying for revenge.

It had all been training, of course. No one really died. Two of her squad mates had played the silent enemy combatants, and no one actually wanted to kill anybody else, but man…her guys really sold it. In the heat of the moment, it had been a testosterone-fueled endeavor that took more out of her than all the hiking done throughout the day combined.

By the end of the night, after they had all gotten back to Quantico and she had gotten back in her barracks room after debriefing their work for the day, she hadn't been quite sure what had hurt worst: her diaphragm and her throat or her bad hip and lower back. But damn, if she hadn't scared the shit out of the rest of her team by showing how a skinny and short woman like herself that had steel in her voice and fire in her bones could do against the likes of them. Some of them had admitted they were terrified of her.

This moment scared her more than the training had. More than boot camp, more than combat training.

 _Oh, no. No, no, no. No. I've already skipped out on fighting Brendan, I've already missed him by, like, a week. There is_ no way _that this is going the way I think it does. It can't. I can't do this. Get someone else, please. Please, for Christ's sake. Someone, anyone!_

She struggled with her next few breathes, her chest drawing so tightly around her lungs, she was almost certain that it was cutting off her air supply—

"Shay! Shay, what do we do?"

Shay could already guess what they wanted to do. The air was already charged with electricity, it was only a matter of directing it. She was hesitating, hoping that someone else would come along, to take charge of the situation, because deep down in her gut, _she knew where this led to—_

A tiny paw reached up to her fingertips, startling her and she looked down to see Ambrose standing there. The tuft of seafoam green fur over his eyes spilt along the sides of his face, showing off the thin skin that covered his eyeless sockets. He smiled at her, giving her an encouraging nod.

' _Do it.'_

She was feeling that same tingling rush of adrenaline through her in that moment as she approached what she now couldn't deny was a member of Team Aqua, and a scientist from the Devon Corporation. Shay felt her heart skip a beat when she recognized on sight the uniform donning the menacing figure. That god-awful pirate-wannabe outfit along with the sigil emblazoned on their bandanna that was a modified Greek Alpha symbol…

It was all damning evidence that pointed in the exact opposite of her denial. Her gut clenched harder, like it was trying to wrap itself around a lump of stone that was slowly growing in her stomach the closer she got.

"Faye, get that fucker off of that guy on the ground. Don't…don't kill him, just distract him." It took all her self-control to not order Faye to gouge out the Team Aqua grunt's eyes out. It really did.

The little Taillow offered an affirmative to the order and took off, quick as a wink as she rocketed toward the Team Aqua member on her swift wings. Faye let off a territorial shriek the moment she was on top of the man, who squealed in surprise and began waving his arms wildly to protect his face. He pinwheeled away, and as he did, Shay scampered closer to the downed man on the ground. He nearly took a swing at her, but upon realizing he wasn't being attacked, he was quick to accept the hand up.

She immediately found concern worming its way under her skin at the massive swelling the size of a peach on the side of his face, skin purpled with bruising and red with blood where the flesh had split open. His lip was split open and bloody, and there was a thin array of cuts underscoring the outline of glasses on his cheeks. Those glasses were now crumpled and broken on the forest floor. One of his eyes was watery and already turning puffy and red after being hit in the face god only knew how many times.

Despite all the injuries, he was also just as quick to scuffle around Shay and shoved her forward like a shield, to shout at her as though she was deaf. Or perhaps he couldn't tell he was screaming in her ear, his own hearing suffering from the hits he took.

"Please! You _have_ to get my research back from that—that thieving _thug_! I-I-I can't go back t-to Devon without them!"

The man was rather nonplussed about forcing her to take his place, and while it miffed her initially, she didn't blame him entirely. He had just taken a few good wallops to the face, and perhaps elsewhere as well.

Faye hurried back to Shay's side, taking roost on the back of her pack. The Team Aqua grunt, who at last noticed the lack of a feathery fiend trying to slash at him senselessly, took a few heavy gulps of air in an effort to calm himself. When his gaze fell upon Shay, his eyes bulged, his face grew red with anger and embarrassment, and a vein in both his temple and his neck began to pulse rather visibly. His eyes slid to the side to glare at the man cowering behind Shay, who gave her another shove forward, nearly pushing her straight onto her face.

She dug her heels in and as she leaned back, she shoved back at the scientist.

"Easy, easy! Jesus Christ, you're going to fuckin' make me fall over, you goddamned idiot!"

The man yelped behind her, perhaps not expecting such a savage response in the face of his plight. She swore she heard him mumble an apology, but it was lost in the sudden bark of orders from the Team Aqua grunt standing adjacent to her. His command was accompanied by the brilliant light of a pokéball bursting open and the musical chime it made. The energy coalesced together to form, rather predictably in her mind, a Poochyena. The little pokémon immediately hunched down in a defensive position, its grey hackles bristling, its black lips peeled back, and its snout curled into a vicious snarl. Red eyes glared balefully at her, a challenging growl in its throat.

Sela returned the spiteful display in kind, a low growl building in her chest. She was ready to rumble, and after a quick glance at the rest of her team, Shay saw the others were just as willing and able to jump into the fray. She motioned for them to stand down and immediately felt the back of her neck and along her spine prickle at the self-righteous smirk thrown her way by the grunt opposite her.

"Awww, whassa matter, little girl? You too scared to fight me? You might have more pokémon than me, but I bet you'll lose every one of them to my Poochyena here, easy-peasy. You might think you're protecting that weakling, but believe me, you're the one that's gonna need protection once I'm done with you."

Shay felt herself bristling at the half-assed attempt at hurling insults upon her person. Really, did everyone think her height was a major source of contempt and sensitivity for her? If anything, she was more insulted by the lack of creativity on his part.

"Ya know, I'm getting real sick of people callin' me by the most obvious and overused descriptive term they can use to describe me. Yeah, I'm a girl, and I'm short. How is that an insult, you buck-toothed, bowlegged, scurvy-riddled cunt?"

The grunt wasn't expecting that. His smile vanished and was replaced by yet another glowering scowl. If looks could kill, Shay was certain she'd be dead several times over.

 _Let's try not to get ourselves killed for real_ , she told herself.

Now _that_ would be embarrassing.

Shay motioned to Keno with a tilt of her head and the Mudkip responded without a word. He leapt forward to face off against the Poochyena opposite them, tailfin a-quivering, back arched, and little legs planted determinedly. The others settled to watch, yet Shay could almost feel the energy roiling off each and every one of them.

There was so very little fanfare or pizzazz that preceded this battle. That was fine by her. The less dramatics, the better. She didn't need grand speeches or lengthy declarations.

"Sand Attack!"

The suddenness in which the battle started threw Shay for a loop, and rather abruptly, she felt as though she was flailing, struggling to stay afloat in the deep end. It must have shown on her face, because the Team Aqua member's face split into a shit-eating grin, his dark eyes glittering malevolently. His Poochyena responded instantly, turning on its heel and hurriedly digging at the ground, chucking dirt and grit directly at Keno.

"Counter with Water Gun! Dampen the ground, don't give him any usable ammo!"

Her cry of warning came too late; the dirt that had went flying smacked Keno in the face and sent him reeling. He went into fits of trying to scrape at his face with a paw, smacking at the orange external gills lining his cheeks in an attempt to clear the debris from his eyes. She heard him whine as he began to shake his head, looking destitute and vulnerable. Shay felt that helplessness bleed into her simply by watching.

"Get in there and use Tackle on that Mudkip! Hit it hard and don't let it get back up, or so help me, you'll regret it, Rouge!"

The Poochyena snapped an affirmative remark, its pitch and tone somewhat higher than Shay was expecting. Another female, perhaps…? Nope. Not her problem to linger on.

"Keno, dodge to your left! Turn around and hit back with a Water Gun!"

Her trusty and steadfast starter obeyed, even though she suspected the grit in his eyes must've hurt like hell. She knew how that felt. When she had been younger, perhaps about eight or nine, an older boy she went to after-school child care with didn't like how she beat him in handball games, so he had thrown a fistful of sand at her face right as they were coming back inside the building. It took the caretakers nearly an agonizing half hour to flush out and clean her eyes.

She could more than just sympathize with Keno on that matter alone.

The Poochyena's incoming attack barely grazed Keno, hardly causing any noticeable shift in his counterattack. Keno snapped his mouth open before he had even gotten completely out of the way and turned around. Water gushed from his open maw, hitting the Poochyena hard and flinging it into a nearby tree. The tiny canine yelped a wordless cry, loudly and at length.

Its trainer shouted at it to get up and fight once, twice, three times. His Poochyena struggled to get its paws underneath it, staggering with uncertainty before collapsing altogether.

"Get up! Fight! I _know_ you can fight!"

"Your Poochyena can't fight anymore, man. You lost. Give back the goods you stole," Shay all but snarled. Sela punctuated her point by barking several times at the grunt, before emphasizing her point by allowing her maw to smoke and glow with embers dripping down her fangs. He flinched, and behind her, Shay sensed the scientist do the same, along with a tiny whimper of…hope? Anxiety? Fear? She couldn't tell for sure. She had nearly forgotten about him, and a part of her felt guilty at that.

The Team Aqua grunt spat on the ground, and with great reluctance and consternation, recalled his Poochyena back into its pokéball. With equal unwillingness, he unhitched a small messenger bag from his being and flung it to the ground. The scientist was quick to swing around Shay and dived for it like his life depended upon it. He snatched it up and scurried back around to hide behind Shay.

 _Wow. You're a grown-ass man hiding behind a tiny-ass woman,_ she wanted to say, and as soon as she thought it, she felt a strange…well, the closest she could compare it to was a tickle, but it traced right along her brain, starting from between her eyes, up and over her scalp and temples, and ending at the base of her skull. It was the strangest sensation, and she wasn't even sure what it was. It wasn't the same chill she got when it was particularly cold or itchy. She couldn't pinpoint wat it was, not until she snapped her head in Ambrose's direction. The Ralts was smiling that mysterious yet very telling smile at no one in particular.

 _Little shit,_ she thought, but without a hint of malice or ill will behind it. Turning her attention back on the Team Aqua member, noting the look of rage and wretched contempt written so plainly upon his features. His face was growing red again, this time with utter humiliation.

"Tch. If I had more pokémon, I'd keep up the constant barrage of attacks, but since I don't… argh, dammit all! You'll pay for this, just you wait!"

Another derisive spat on the ground. He turned his dark eyes on her once more, looking ready to spout off something else, but stopped himself short when Sela crept closer, once more assuming a bristling, prickly bundle of aggressive rancor aimed his way. Nervousness swept across his face, like a passing shadow. He turned on his heel and sharply took off with another shout of frustration bellowed to the heavens as he beat a hasty retreat.

Shay and the man hiding behind her watched his backside as it dove into the woods with reckless abandon. They waited until the sounds of his retreat had faded, and the white noise of the forest's chorus came back with a quietly building crescendo. When it did, the man cowering behind Shay with his newly recovered goods let out a trembling and loud exhalation.

"Oh…oh, goodness me. I thought I-I was a goner for sure. I thought that no-good rapscallion was going to make off with my research!"

He continued fussing with the messenger bag, rifling through its innards, ensuring every page and document was still within. There were a few pieces of equipment—parts, really, if she was being honest—but she didn't get a good glimpse at them before more paperwork was fluffed over them. As the papers flipped over, she caught a glimpse of something shiny, red-and-white, and…

"You had a pokémon this entire fucking time and you didn't think to use it?"

Now she was really pissed. At first, she had grudgingly accepted that someone was in need, and had swallowed down the apprehension of the situation she had ran towards—again, the white-hot anxiety that rushed through her at the thought that this, _this battle_ that had just taken place, was _part of the fucking games_ —but now…

Now she wanted to hit the man standing in front of her just as much as she had wanted to throw a fist at that Team Aqua grunt.

The man's face and neck flushed pink in embarrassment and he hurriedly pulled the canvas flap snuggly over everything. He stood, his gangly frame towering over Shay, but to be fair…she was pretty sure she could snap him in half over her knee. He clung to his messenger bag like it was his lifeline, his gaze glued to his feet and pointedly refusing to meet Shay's glare. She almost felt bad for getting loud with him.

Almost.

She glanced at her team and her heart gave a lurch when she noticed Keno was still rubbing at his face, emitting soft whimpers with every swipe he made. She took a knee, immediately taking out her canteen and gently began to pour water into his eyes after unscrewing the cap off.

"You know, I'm not looking for it—in fact, I could give two rat shits about it—but when someone helps you out of a really tough spot like the one you were in, people usually say 'thank you'." She growled and saw the man flinch, as though she had struck him.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm…I'm not…I'm not a good battler. I tried the League Challenge once, when I was a lot younger and I-I-I wasn't that great. I didn't even make it past Roxanne. If she was too tough for me, there was n…n-no way I could make it all the way to the Chamption. I found I was b-better equipped towards scientific research." His faced paled slightly, the flush in his cheeks diminishing to ruddy, splotchy splashes as he watched Shay. She glanced up and he immediately ducked his gaze again, his face scrunching together in concentration, bracing himself before continuing. "I appreciate the help. I was out here just do-doing research on Shroomish. I-I find them fascinating a-and… _and_ , the properties o-of their spores…I-I…I think they could benefit people a-and pokémon alike. Medical and the like."

He looked relieved at being able to get all that out and Shay took a deep, calming breath before allowing herself to talk. Keno was blinking at her, his eyes appearing less angry, although the skin around them appeared irritated and puffy. She patted him gently on the back. He was quick to scoop his head underneath her hand, leaning into her touch. Sela sniffed him delicately, softly asking if he was all right. Keno nodded.

"I'm fine. That dirt in my eyes hurt a little, though…"

Shay, satisfied that Keno was going to be all right, straightened and capped her canteen back up. When she turned to the man hovering close beside her, his lips were pressed tightly together and his jaw was working up and down, as though he was chewing on his words before speaking them. His eyes wandered and suddenly lit up when they spotted Ambrose.

"Your Ralts knows Teleport, doesn't it?"

Shay flinched, taken aback at the excitement colouring his words. She looked down at the Ralts and frowned.

"He does, but…"

"Please…I-I-I…" He stopped himself short, clenching his jaw once again. "I _need_ …t-to get back to Rustboro."

Shay shifted her pack around on her shoulders, throwing another glance Ambrose's way. The Ralts shrugged his sloping shoulders.

"It doesn't work that way. I've never been there before. I can't just aim for a place I haven't visited. I could overshoot and end up…I dunno, the ocean, I guess." Ambrose paused, cocking his head to the side. "I don't think he'd appreciate getting dunked with all his junk."

 _So that's how it works, huh?_

' _Kind of, but there's more to it,"_ came the immediate and cheeky reply. Shay felt her head itching, like it had earlier, and she resisted the urge to drag her fingers through her hair in an effort to assuage the sensation creeping along beneath her scalp. She could feel the gazes of Keno, Faye, and Sela drifting between herself and the desperate gangly man staring at her so hopefully, his eyes were practically bulging.

Turning back to the man, she shook her head, then nodded to his messenger bag.

"If you have a pokémon, you should use them to get back Rustboro. I haven't even been there myself. Ambrose can't Teleport there yet."

His expression crumpled completely and he lowered his eyes. "Oh. I suppose…" He paused, taking a deep breath, and he took another jaw-clenching moment to brace himself. "I-I suppose I should get going, then."

Apprehensively, he stole a glance over his shoulder, down the trail that led north to Rustboro City. No doubt he was thinking about the Team Aqua grunt that had attacked him and whatever urgency that compelled him to get moving overwhelmed his trepidation. A part of Shay wanted to offer to escort him, but her mouth remained wired shut and her stomach curdled and churned. With leaden feet he began to lumber down the path, shooting Shay one last forlorn look over the shoulder with his swollen, bruised cheek on full display.

Shay's stomach twisted into yet another series of knots, guilt slowly worming its way into her chest as the seconds ticked by.

"That was…strange." Faye piped up after the man disappeared from sight and sound. She shivered, bursting into a feathery ball. Just as quickly, her feathers smoothed out and she turned to look at Shay from her spot on the ground. "What kind of human carries a pokémon but never uses them?"

"The kind that aren't good at battling." Sela sniffed pointedly. "He's so soft. How do humans stand weaklings like him?"

"We have laws that protect everyone, although…where I come from, the rich and the powerful like to invest their money in passing laws that benefit them and screw everyone else underneath them. They manipulate things to better their own lives and wealth. That kind of selfishness and divisiveness can lead to a lot of people suffering and dying. And it has."

Remembering all of it came in a rush and the taste of sour bile lingered at the back of her throat. The socio-political environment of her world had become a bloated corpse of redundant discourse and thinly veiled conceit, corruption, and bigoted bias that favoured wealthy corporate donors rather than the constituents that politicians were supposed to represent and help, not crush beneath their heels in an effort to increase their own personal wealth and comfort. She recalled the dismay she often felt whenever she had listened to the news, day in and day out, felt the gravity of a black hole growing ever larger with each passing hour within her chest.

Most of that oppressive stress, however, has lifted almost fully from her shoulders. There wasn't the lingering worry and anxiety that the leader of her country—a fucking man-child and fascist in the making—was going to send her overseas to fight in a war he started all on social-goddamn-media because he couldn't act like a damn adult.

Here, the political structure was strange and alien. She was slowly wrapping her mind around things. Being the Champion meant being the strongest trainer in the region. Being the strongest meant being able to handle any situation thrown your way, whether it was answering the call of a pokémon battle or settling a heated political discussion. Either way, that status could be easily challenged, and it was a position everyone who chose to walk the path of the League Challenge vied for. There were no elections held for Champion.

 _And Steven's held that position for ten years,_ Shay thought as she motioned for everyone to continue on the path north. Faye took to the air, while Sela took point, and Ambrose and Keno walked on either side of Shay. _Christ. I feel like an idiot, I'm just now realizing this. Nobody's been able to knock him off his high horse in all this time. How? Why?_

' _Because no one's determined enough to do it,'_ Ambrose's voice skittered along across her skull, making her spine tingle and shiver. _'But you want to get there so badly, you're practically tasting blood. It takes that and more to make it to the top of the mountain.'_

Shay swallowed thickly, her tongue numb and thick in her mouth. She glanced at her as he slunk along beside her, but he didn't lift his head to acknowledge her.

 _And how would you know what it takes?_

'My mother was a rather…competitive battler in her heydays. She and my father both were. That was before they ran off into the wilds together. She told me all about it.'

 _She abandoned her trainer?_ That was a rather astonishing and bold claim. She stared at Ambrose skeptically as they wound their way through the thicket pressing in on both sides of the path.

 _'He was reluctant to let her go, but…she's very convincing. She doesn't like taking 'no' for an answer, on and off the battlefield.'_

Ambrose chuckled, both aloud and mentally. It was dizzying to focus on both. She could feel Ambrose's influence pulling away from her mind like taffy being pulled apart and her vision swam.

 _'You'll get used to that,'_ he assured her, his voice a distant echo as he retreated. Warmth spread across her scalp at his absence, soothing and refreshing. It eased away the pains she had been feeling for quite some time. She sighed in relief, drawing gazes from Sela and Keno alike.

"You okay, Shay?" Keno piped up, glancing up at her from over his shoulder. His eyes were looking better now, the irritation's influence shrinking away. She nodded to him, offering a faint smile.

"I'm okay. Let's just get to Rustboro before dark, okay? Sound good, guys?"

"Sounds good to me. I could eat," Sela remarked.

"But…you just ate," Keno replied, turning his attention on the Poochyena ahead of them. She barked out a round of laughter.

"What can I say, I'm a growing girl. If I want to someday evolve, I've got to eat and train. I'm a bit upset that I didn't get to fight in that last battle."

"Tell you what, Sela: next battle, you'll go first. Sound good?" Shay said, and the Poochyena flashed her a toothy grin over her shoulder, a frenzied gleam dancing in the depths of her ruby red eyes.

"Sounds great to me. I'll hold you to that promise."

* * *

 ** _Notes:_ I don't often get the chance to write stutters. I did have to look through a few guides to help on the matter. I tried to focus on a core group of letters for it, as suggested by several guides, instead of just going all over the place. I hope I was able to represent it well enough.  
**

 **As always, please feel free to leave a review or constructive critique in the review section, I love hearing from you guys!**


	11. Chapter Ten: Drill and Chill

**Chapter Ten:  
Drill and Chill**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 **Notes: I am always super-careful in my battles and tend to be paranoid, so I carried a lot of things to prevent or fix status-encumbering inflictions. I also like to grind until I am a gym leader's god and not just their run-of-the-mill opponent. I see nothing wrong with that.**

 **On another note, this is the part where I flail about wildly like Kermit the Frog, because I am so surprised at all the new followers of both my story and author page I received over the past week! Thank you everyone who has been reading! I would love to hear from you guys and how you like the story so far! Any constructive critique you may have to offer is also welcome!**

 **One additional, and last note before we get started, I've begun a Tumblr blog for this story. So, any headcanons or ideas or even any art I do that I have for the story (that is as non-spoiler-y as possible) will be posted there! It is under the handle _blue-skiesand-silverlinings_ for anyone interested in giving it a follow and look-see. It's still relatively new and in its infancy, so allow some time for it to grow! **

**Current Team** **: Keno the Mudkip, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow**

* * *

" _Now on to my next task: sitting around with nothing to do for twelve hours. I better get started!"_  
 **― Mark Watney, "** _ **The Martian**_ **"** **by Andy Weir**

* * *

"Is something wrong with her?"

"I think she's shy."

"We're not going to hurt her."

"Guys, give her some space. Let her come out on her own."

"But I wanna soak in the tub, Shay! She's taking the bathroom up for herself with all her… _spores_! I can't get in there when it's like that!"

"…aw crap, you're right."

The Pokémon Center room Shay and her team were sequestered in was one of their slightly larger suites. There has been a lull in challengers in the last several weeks, the nurse at the front desk had told her as she handed the key to Shay earlier that evening. So, Shay got the cream of the crop, as much as it could be called as such. The rooms she's stayed in, from Petalburg and Rustboro both, had been Spartan in accommodations and decoration. Basic necessities and nothing more, nothing less. It reminded Shay of a hotel room…or a military barrack's room.

 _At least I don't have to worry about random health and comfort inspections. Or uniform inspections. Or junk on the bunk inspections. Or…any inspections, really._

The thought struck her as odd in the midst of her current predicament and she shook them all away, looking at the closed bathroom door with concern.

She had caught a pokémon back in the Petalburg Woods, a mere half hour after her encounter with the Team Aqua grunt and the Devon researcher he had been harassing. Ironically, it had been a tiny Shroomish, the very pokémon the Devon researcher had been searching high and low for. The poor thing, as soon as Shay had let her out of her pokéball when they reached the room, shot a dust cloud of _something_ into the air, and scurried away on stumpy legs to sequester herself into the bathroom. As soon as the air had cleared, and as soon as Shay found it safe to breathe without needing her shirt as a filter pressed up against her mouth and nose, had closed the bathroom door.

Now Shay was trying to figure out just how to get inside, without inhaling a huge lungful of poison or paralysis or sleep powders. Or any combination of any of them, really.

The thought of that made her shudder, but she tried to stifle them. If she didn't, she'd never get things done and she'd let fear motivate her actions.

 _Suck it up, Marine,_ she told herself.

She glanced at her team huddled on the queen-sized bed, who were staring back at her expectantly. Sela sneezed and shook her head vigorously, but otherwise, none of them moved. Shay sucked in a breath and inched closer toward the door, tiptoeing as she went. Gently, she knocked on the door.

"Hey, there, um…Shroomish." She winced. She hadn't nicknamed the Shroomish yet. She hadn't even had a chance to ask if the Shroomish had a name. The only definite thing she gathered was that the Shroomish was female from her pokédex's entry data after Shay had caught her.

But, do pokémon who are basically plant-animal hybrids identify themselves with gender or do they prefer some other identifying pronouns? They, them? Do they switch it up and change it on a whim? _Fuck, man. I should've let her…it…them out sooner than this._

"I'm gonna come in now. Just me. Please don't…spray anything at me. I just want to talk. Is that okay?"

There was a pregnant pause, one that hung heavily in the air. Just as Shay was getting ready to turn the knob of the bathroom door, she heard a reluctant and fairly quiet, "O-Okay," from the other side. She shot the others a nervous grin and a thumbs up before carefully pushing the door open, her shirt already covering her mouth and nose.

It was still dark inside, and it took Shay a few seconds for her eyes to adjust and to locate the Shroomish, tucked away between the toilet and the vanity. The air was surprisingly clear, although she wouldn't have been surprised if there was still something lingering in the air. She sniffed, finding nothing odd or out of place and tugged the hem of her shirt back down.

"Hey there, little…um. Do you have any pronoun preferences? She, it, them…?"

"I'm…I'm a girl."

"Okay. That's a start." Shay left the door open and crossed her legs at the ankles and gently lowered herself down into a cross-legged position on the tiles of the bathroom floor. The Shroomish remained where she was, staring at Shay with wide, beady black eyes. She was a squat little thing, with fungal growths crusted over her plump body. It was vaguely reminiscent to the fungal plate growths of the Clickers or Bloaters from _The Last of Us_ , Shay mused, before shaking those thoughts away.

"Okay, then," Shay said once more, showing her hands to the Shroomish. "Do you have a name? Or is it all right if I give you one?"

"Breela," the Shroomish replied, her voice soft.

"Breela. That's…that's pretty."

If memory served her correct, Shroomish evolved into Breloom. They were vaguely reminiscent to a two-legged dinosaur, in some respects, with a mushroom capped skull, stubby clawed forelimbs, and a long tail ending in a club of some sort. Breela would grow into the name. Right now, she didn't resemble anything like that.

 _Everyone's gotta start somewhere,_ she thought. She offered a smile and that made the Shroomish quiver, the top of her head trembling.

 _Uh-oh. That's not good._ Shay's smile dropped away.

"Easy. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?"

"You caught me. What else are you going to do with me?"

"Umm…well. I'm a trainer. I guess you already know that, since…I caught you," Shay reaffirmed, wincing at the awkwardness of her wording. "And that means you're on my team now. But, if you don't want to, I could either…box you, or let you go. Before you decide, though, I want to say that, if you stick around on the team, you could have a chance to grow stronger and evolve into a Breloom. In case that's something you want to do."

The Shroomish paused, thoughtful and silent. She didn't say anything for such a long time, that Shay's legs began to cramp and grow stiff in the position she sat in. She slowly unfolded her legs, groaning as her lower back gave a painful twinge in protest when she tried stretching. Her hip soon joined in and then everything just started to throb and ache. She groaned again. She was going to need to take a hot shower, stretch in full, and maybe take a pill before the night was over with.

"Sorry. Cramps and stuff," she said when Breela shuddered again. The Shroomish tiptoed her way out from between the vanity and toilet, moving closer to Shay. Shay looked at her hopefully.

"I…I want to stay. I think I want…I want to get stronger. Just enough to evolve. Is that okay?"

"Just say the word when you're done, and I'll either box you or set you free."

A craggy little smile alit Breela's squat face. "I like that."

* * *

One of the nice things about the pack Professor Birch had given Shay, was that it had a smaller one-strapped sling-pack inside it. It could be taken in lieu of the entirety of her camping gear, precisely for the purpose if she was staying in a town and needed to travel light to surrounding areas for training.

She wished she'd known this back in Petalburg, but she was glad to know it at all now. She packed up essentials—a few bottles of potions and several vials of paralysis heal, awakening, and antidote alike. In a secondary pocket, she packed as many pokéballs she could stuff inside. Their plastic carapaces clinked and clacked softly against one another, like marbles, as she fastened the zipper over the track until it was closed tightly. In a smaller side pocket, she had some Tylenol and her painkillers. She'd already taken some earlier that morning during breakfast. It was helping ease the pains that had plagued her most of the evening before.

It was a fresh new day, and as much as she wanted to head to Roxanne's gym, settled at the northern end of town, Shay knew she'd have to train the newer members of the team. Even if they don't get to battle in the gym in this town, who's to say they won't in the next.

Again, she was going off of memory, but she recalled that Brawly, an avid user of fighting-types on Dewford Island, was the next stop. Faye would be her best fighter in that gym, and as powerful as her moves were…

Well, they had consequences. Faye's strongest attack, Brave Bird, had one major drawback: its power will rebound and hurt Faye, an if she took enough damage to make a deep dent in her health during a battle, it could knock her out of the fight or worse. It was perhaps the only reason she was able to catch Faye in the first place. Shay was reluctant to let the little Taillow use it in a gym-sanctioned battle, never mind any other kind of battle. Only in emergencies, she's reasoned. It was too powerful to have Faye override it with a new move, but it was too risky to use too often.

She'd focus on other flying-type attacks. Hit hard, hit fast, hit enough times that it ensures a victory.

It's the way she'd always played in the games. Perhaps that strategy would work well enough here, in the actual world of pokémon as well.

Or so he hoped. It's worked so far, in the dozen or so pokémon battles she's already underwent. Each time got her blood pressure rising, her gut clenching into knots, and her mind racing faster than she could comprehend. Attack sequences went tumbling out of her mouth quicker than her thoughts could, and by the time they did catch up, the battle was over, and her pokémon stood tall and proud on the makeshift battlefield, towering over their fallen foes.

She was cautiously optimistic on the matters, although her entire body, right down to the core, felt braced for a losing blow.

 _Let's just hope we can keep up this winning streak._

Taking the hike out to the northeastern end out of the city, where the grass and woodlands were aplenty and filled with both trainers and wild pokémon, was a welcome start to their training. It was also refreshing to not have to lug around her heavy pack. Her aching shoulders needed the rest.

Several times, she gained stares as she went through Rustboro City. Halfway through, she realized why. Not everyone who wandered the city to their next destination had their entire pokémon team out. Most had no pokémon out, and those that did only ever had one at a time. Shay had all her team members out, trailing after her like little ducklings as they went. She decided "fuck it" and kept going about her business.

 _If they want to stare, let them. Not gonna stop me._

She didn't have time to wonder and worry about what people thought of her. She had training to do. Or rather, her pokémon had training to do. Leading them on a hike through the city as a warm up would do them some good.

Nothing got the blood pumping than a little old hike.

It was midmorning by the time they managed to get to the outskirts of Rustboro, the open fields and long grass windswept and tangled, reined in only by the gnarled trees on either side of the fields. The same trees funneled further east of the city, and she recalled not only from memory but from the x-transceiver's map that it'd lead straight to the unfinished Rusturf Tunnel.

…at least, she was certain it was unfinished. She only assumed as such—

— _because that's how the game goes,_ she finished the unbidden thought and scowled. She wanted to up and deny the thought, banish it completely. _Just because I fought that Team Aqua grunt doesn't mean this is like the games. May is gone. I didn't fight Brendan at all._

She winced, her body on autopilot as they continued their trek into Route 116.

 _But I helped Professor Birch when he was attacked by wild pokémon, with one of the three Hoenn regional starters. I helped Wally catch a pokémon—a_ Ralts, _of all things. I fought the damned grunt in the forest and ran into that Devon researcher. Norman even admitted he won't battle me until I've earned at least four badges beforehand. Just like the games._

The trademark signs were clear as day, and she wanted to deny it. She truly did. Things were changed, true, but they were mostly mainstay points that ran along the main vein of the Hoenn story.

 _Did I replace May?_ Shay thought with her gut clenching and she almost felt ready to purge her stomach right then and there. _Oh,_ god _. What if I_ did? _What if she died and I_ replaced _her?_

"Shay? Shay, are you okay?"

"She's going to be sick, Keno, I wouldn't stand by her if I were you."

"Does—does she need a healer?"

She jolted out of her thoughts when a pair of sharp claws dug into her shoulder and a hard, pointed something slammed into the side of her face. It was super effective.

Shay ducked her head and yelped, holding the offended side of her head as wings beat mercilessly at her to flutter away. Faye whirled in the air, circling lazily into the field to land beside Ambrose, Keno, Sela, and Breela. She observed Shay with one eye, her head tilted. Shay, with her heart racing and her blood pounding, stared with all the grace of a dumbstruck Slowpoke.

"I…what? _What?_ What the fuck was that for?"

"You didn't replace anyone," Ambrose announced, causing Shay to flinch, as though he had just struck her. He pressed on, undeterred. "Accidents happen. Just because someone is not here, doesn't make it your fault. You had nothing to do with her death."

"Wha…?"

"That gym leader's daughter you were thinking about. She died in an accident. You didn't replace her. You didn't even know her. Stop feeling so guilty. You're starting to make me queasy."

Shay continued to stare but meaning began to slowly trickle into her head. Ralts flourished under positive emotions. If their trainers felt upset, so did Ralts. She eyed the pink horn atop Ambrose's head and frowned, feeling another wave of guilt wash over her.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

Ambrose waved a dismissive paw. "Cheer up. That's all I ask, okay? And maybe don't beat yourself up for something that isn't your fault."

Keno stared at Ambrose with more scrutiny than the others. "What're you talking about? Who died?"

"The gym leader we saw in Petalburg," Shay explained. "He…he had a daughter. And a wife—a mate. They both died when they were traveling to come here to Hoenn. In an accident. They were flying here, and…the plane had a malfunction. It crashed. Norman said there weren't any survivors."

Keno stared at her, while the others ducked their gazes. Ambrose kept his head tilted in her direction, waiting.

"Oh…that's so sad. But what does it have to do with you?" Keno said, his voice small and quiet.

"Nothing." Shay answered honestly. "I just…feel really bad for Norman. His daughter should have been…doing this. What we're doing. And she can't, because she passed away, and a part of me feels guilty. Like I'm someone I'm not, because I've been staying at his house while he's helped me become a trainer."

She sucked down a breath, and it tasted as bitter and acrid as bile at the back of her throat.

"I just feel like…I'm replacing his daughter. I know, logically, I'm not. But that doesn't make me feel any less guilty for being here."

"He's helping you of his free will, isn't he?" Sela inquired, staring Shay down with those ruby red eyes of hers. Shay nodded. "Then stop feeling guilty. You're not his kin, but he chose to help you regardless."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

There was more to it. More than she wanted to say out loud, like how this entire world was fictional where she came from and…

She could already feel that telltale itch along the innards of her skull, a brief sign that Ambrose was there. She knew scowling in his direction wouldn't do much, given his blindness. She tucked away those thoughts, trying to banish them as she shook herself and tried to focus on what needed to happen now.

They had training to do. She was here, she was a trainer, and she had a team to look after.

* * *

Evening was dawning on them, slow and steady. The blanket of blue was bleeding with ribbons of red and purple and pink and orange as the team trudged back toward Rustboro. Shay was clenching a pokéball in hand, still trying to process what the hell had just happened.

Thin cuts, like red ribbons, decorated her arms, shoulders, and even some on her face. She stared at the pokéball in hand. Her mind was drawing into a blissful blank as she regarded what lay inside it.

She wasn't angry. At first, she had been, sure. But she reneged on it in the end, giving in to understanding.

In all fairness, she and her team _are_ trespassing on wild pokémon territory.

It was only a matter of time before one of the wild ones got a little too frisky.

There was one thing she knew and that she was never going to look at cats the same way again.

The Skitty had come out of nowhere and had scratched Shay to hell and back before any of her team could respond. It was Faye, the wonderful little bird that she is, who managed to yank the perfunctory little pink kitten off of Shay before she had lost something really important—like an eyeball or her dignity.

The cuts decorating her weren't all that bad. They weren't as deep as they could have been, and they weren't serious.

Ambrose was perched in the crook of her other arm, leaning into her shoulder as they trudged back into Rustboro. Breela was conspicuously absent from the parade of pokémon trailing after Shay. She had worked hard, and it took quite a lot out of the poor Shroomish, who had elected to take a ride in her pokémon in the end. Her pokéball sat snugly along Shay's magnetic belt for the time being, until she was healed back at the Pokémon Center. The rest elected to stay out. Faye had enough energy to keep flying, but Keno was draped over Shay's unscratched shoulder, snuggling into the warmth of Shay's neck. His skin didn't feel quite rubbery, but it didn't _not_ feel rubbery either. It was a strange juxtaposition. Sela trotted alongside Shay, unhindered. Her coat was shiny and slick-looking.

From her research in the pokédex, it was a good sign of health for a growing pokémon. The little Poochyena had a gash on her flank, but it didn't slow her down much, and the bleeding had stopped a while ago. It didn't stop Shay from spritzing her with a potion spray-bottle, and in the end, she knew it helped. Potions and their stronger tonics helped speed up an already accelerated healing process in pokémon, but only by so much.

It was still always recommended to take a pokémon to a center, to ensure a full recovery.

When they stepped through the doorways, it was a little more crowded, and there was a line at the counter. She waited until the person in front of her stepped to the front desk before returning everyone to their pokéballs. Ambrose was the last and he patted Shay's cheek gingerly.

"You're good people. Don't stress too much about us, okay? We'll handle anything the world throws at us," he told her with a sincere grin. She found her lips twitching in return before recalling him and stepping to the counter, gently slipping each miniaturized pokéball into a proffered tray from the nurse manning the desk.

Ten minutes later, she was crashing on the bed, a set of dishes in one hand, a bag of pokémon food in the other. She rolled onto her back and winced at length as each cut protested at the rough movements. She filled each dish with food and water, then released her team, who blinked into the soft lighting of the room, then at the readied trays of food and water.

The only one to withhold was the newly attained Skitty sitting on the outskirts of the team, staring at Shay with a narrow, yet curious gaze. Her tail flicked back and forth in mild agitation, her coat of pastel pink fur was lightly bristling upwards. Her yellow gaze eventually strayed to the others gathered in the room. Sela looked up to meet the Skitty's stare, who woofed softly at her, before returning to her meal.

The Skitty looked up at Shay.

"So. I was caught. How…unexpected."

"Yep."

"You're going to make me fight?"

"Only if you want to."

This surprised the little pink cat. There was a short pause before the Skitty spoke again.

"I don't really have a name."

"Would you like one?" Shay replied earnestly. The Skitty looked away and toward the window. The curtains were drawn back, revealing the night skyline of Rustboro. The city lights drowned out any hope of seeing the stars in full, but the moon, half-ripe and glowing, was peeking out from the corner of the apartment building just across the street from them.

"Moony?" she offered to her new trainer.

Shay winced and pulled a face. "How about Luna?"

The Skitty twitched her tail once, twice. Then she twisted to look over her shoulder at Shay and offered a cat-smile to her.

"I like it. Luna it is."

* * *

 _ **Extra Notes**_ **: I would feel overly guilty about "replacing" someone who's place was to be the big hero of a big story. I don't think many touchy-feely pokémon would appreciate the overload of ANGST but Ambrose is a good sport. MY TINY GREEN SON, YOU DESERVE BETTER. (I have also been working on art for Ambrose, I shall have to direct you lovelies over to it when I'm done with it and it's been posted.)**

 **Now, for some "light" terminology!**

 _ **Health and Comfort Inspections:**_ **Just another way for the Powers That Be in the Marine Corps to have an excuse to rifle through your personal shit—if you live in the barracks. They technically could go to a Marine's house and do so, if they live out in town, but that's usually reserved for cases where they suspect something shady or suspect is going on (depression, suicidal tendencies, drug trafficking, shit like that). If it isn't locked up or nailed down, it's going to be scrutinized for legality or cleanliness. I've had people in previous units who've been caught with all sorts of paraphernalia that's Not Okay to have. Example? Male Marine with a shit ton of dildos and lube. I don't have the full story on that one, but I'm sure it's a fucking delight. I can only hope it was for him and whoever he was romping about between the sheets with.**

 _ **Uniform Inspections:**_ **Just what it says on the tin. Units that aren't immediately deployment ready or are mainly or even entirely logistical, tend to have nothing better to do than make the unit stand in formation for a uniform inspection, PT, or training. The first and second are the most common. Uniform inspections are also conducted for upcoming events, like Marine Corps Birthday Ball celebrations (typically around November 10** **th** **, the day the Marine Corps was officially "born"), Mess Nights (can be set at any time, and revolves around formality and military traditions, not an actual specific event or date), or because the Commanding Officer is feeling super fucking motivated and decides to do them. Or because someone with more rockers or a shiny collar said so. It's all up to the command and their discretion, really.**

 _ **Junk on the Bunk Inspections:**_ **Another inspection, as it says on the tin. Basically, you take all gear issued to you, minus the rifle, and place it on your bed, arrange it the way they want (leaders can be super relaxed or super anal about how they want it to look, in order to ensure absolute checklist completion). This is another way to ensure nobody lost something as trivial as a canteen or something huge like a set of Gortex pants or jacket, and believe me, those things ain't cheap. To be fair, the companies that sell and cater to the military price gouge the shit out of the government, overcharge their products, and in turn, if someone loses an issued item, that military member has to pay it back out of pocket, but even that process isn't just whipping out a credit card, it's a literal paperwork process that includes going from here to Mordor to get admin and a fucking Bulrog to sign off on everything so that the military can take the money straight out of your paycheck. It's an unncessarily complicated shitstorm.**

 **There are several other types of inspections, believe you me. There are literal guidelines, orders, and booklets filled with exact details and directions on how to conduct these kinds of things. The reason we're so much stricter or crack down on things harder and faster on these sorts of issues before other branches of military is because, somewhere and at some point in time, a Marine has fucked up and became That Guy. That Guy who brought to light the shady shit he's been doing, and has been exposed for, and higher ups, all the way up to the Commandant of the Marine Corps and the Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps have to set the example and direct their underlings to craft new rules and amendments to orders to correct such foolishness.**

 **This has also set the precedent for Marines to find loopholes around these rules and try even wilder, stupider, crazier shit.**

 **Seriously, it can range from duct taping someone to the ceiling of an auto mechanic's work bay to throwing helpless puppies off of cliffs. Yes, both incidents have happened. The puppy-killer was, to my knowledge, being videotaped and that evidence got him thrown out of the military. The duct tape incident happened while one of my Marines worked in his previous shop before moving over to another work section that was closer in proximity to my warehouse. I guarantee crazier shit has happened. When Marines are bored, we do stupid-ass dumb shit. It's wild. I kind of miss it.**

 **Getting back to pokémon stuff, I find it unreasonable and ridiculous that a cat pokémon such as Skitty doesn't know Scratch. It's a fucking** _ **cat**_ **, it has** _ **claws**_ **. WHY IS THIS NOT A THING? Ahem. Anywhoodles, let's welcome our newest team members!**

 **Pokémon** **: Breela the Shroomish, Level 5  
** **Nature/Characteristic** **: Modest/Likes to thrash about  
** **Move Set** **: Tackle, Stun Spore  
** **  
Pokémon** **: Luna the Skitty, Level 8  
** **Nature/Characteristic** **: Impish/Sturdy body  
** **Move Set** **: Growl, Tail Whip, Tackle, Foresight**


	12. Chapter Eleven: Grindstone

**Chapter Eleven:  
Grindstone**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: I actually had to split this chapter in half, because it was getting much too long. I also wanted to save the gym battle for its own special segment rather than lump it together with everything else piled on top of it.**

 **Additionally, my apologies for the delayed post. I hope everyone had wonderful holidays! If you haven't had any, I am so, so very sorry to hear that. I hope that this chapter can somewhat ease that burden, even by a tiny margin. Please, I hope you enjoy it, it is a wee bit long. Let this be a delayed Christmas gift to you all, and an early New Year's gift to boot!**

 **I'm also plugging in for my tumblr blog solely for this story! It's under the handle _blue-skiesand-silverlinings_ , and art should be coming forth very soon. Please stay tuned for that, as well as a few character profiles!**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Mudkip, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

* * *

" _Danger is a side effect of what I do, not the reason behind it."_  
 **-Georgia "George" Mason, "Feed" by Mira Grant**

* * *

Scraps of grass blades flew freely into the air, swirling about in the wind before blowing off into all directions. Luna crouched low in the grass, her pink fur a visible stark streak against the green sea around her. Hunkered low in the grass, watching with wide, beady eyes was a Nincada sitting opposite her. It chirred softly, unmoving, waiting, patient. Luna's soft purr grew to an agitated growl, her tail whipping back and forth like a pendulum, gaining speed and growing lower and lower. The bulbous tip twitched violently suddenly. Shay gathered what it meant quickly enough: she wanted the go-ahead to attack or she'd do it herself, orders or not.

Shay glanced at the Nincada, repressing the urge to shudder and skulk back. It was huge; comparatively larger than any insect she's seen with her own eyes, in person, before. She knew animals from her world, like the coconut crab or the goliath bird-eating spider, were huge—but she's never had to deal with them physically before. Pictures on the internet were as close as she got and that was as close as she wished to get, thank you _very_ much.

 _And there's even bigger bugs out there in the world, somewhere,_ she reminded herself, with yet another shudder and urge to itch her arms at the thought. Sudden thoughts of giant insects nearly as large as her, or larger, made her nearly wretch. Shay turned her focus back on what was going on now.

"Disarming Voice!" Shay finally barked, to which Luna was more than happy to respond with a banshee scream that rippled and distorted the air, barreling toward the crouching Nincada. The large insect seemed to realize too late what was happening and before it could flutter off in an effort to avoid the attack, it was bowled over, while the grass around it was flattened to the earth. The Nincada flipped several times over before coming to a standstill, unmoving. Luna slowly lifted herself to her paws, arching her back to stretch before trotting over to Shay.

Shay stared at the Nincada, partly concerned it was dead, and partly afraid that it wasn't and that it would wake up pissed off and attack her next. Sela, wordlessly, got up from her position besides her trainer and trotted over to the Nincada's unmoving body. She sniffed around it, nudged it a couple times, then came trotting back to Shay's side.

"He's alive," she announced. "Just knocked out."

Shay let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, nodding in strained, grudging relief. "Okay," she replied. "Good. That's good." To Luna, she grinned and added, "You did fantastic out there. Here, let me check that scratch out—"

Luna danced out of Shay's reach as she crouched and reached for the small pink kitten. Yellow eyes watched her warily.

"I'm fine," Luna said flippantly. "It's just a scratch. I've had them before. They'll heal."

"You don't know that. What if it gets infected?"

"Then I'll lick it until it isn't."

"That—that literally isn't how you fix infections."

"It's how we do things in the wild."

Sela snorted, and Breela murmured something quietly under her breath. Keno shifted uncertainly on his paws. Faye tilted her head to look at Luna beadily, sighing softly in Shay's ear as she shifted from one leg to another on Shay's shoulder. Ambrose said nothing and merely crossed his arms over his chest. Shay exhaled, fixating an unwavering stare upon Luna.

"Luna, you don't have to do that anymore. I can give you medicine."

"It tastes terrible."

"Then don't lick it," Shay retorted, already slipping her sling pack off and slipping the zipper down its track. "Now, come here. Trust me—it's going to help. It won't hurt anymore, it won't itch as badly when the scabbing comes along. It's like when you go to see the nurse at the center. You don't feel that crappy after we see them, right?"

Luna thought about that for a moment, and after several seconds of pause, she slowly, cautiously, shook her head. She stiffly moved closer, stopping just short of being out of reach from Shay. Shay had to fight the urge to lunge forward to snag the little kitten up by the scruff and instead, dove into her thinning well of patience, waiting for Luna to come closer. She dug her hand into her pack, in the meantime, fishing out through touch alone the familiar contours of the potion vial. The smooth neck and grooved grip were within her grasp in moments and she pulled out the purple and grey bottle, waiting.

The Skitty finally, labouriously, crept even closer, until she was within inches of Shay, staring up at her with wide, yellow eyes, her pupils mere slits. Shay gently patted the little kitten on the head, earning an immediate response: Luna leaned in instinctively into the touch, purring deeply and at length, eyes sliding shut in pleasure, one paw lifting off the ground and claws spreading out until her toes were at full length. Shay noticed the series of ribbons of red along Luna's flank and spritzed them as well while she had Luna's attention. The wound immediately began to coagulate, coated with a quickly hardening case of scabbing until the potion vial ran out.

Shay let out a breath of relief, glad that the Skitty was at least letting her treat her. It was a step in the right direction. Shay reached to scratch the arched back presenting to her. Luna flopped over in reply, curling over on the ground, looking pleased as punch while Shay continued delivering her assault of affection. She began to vigorously move to rub Luna's side and got a mouthful of sharp teeth for her troubles when her hand reached Luna's pale, creamy belly.

"Don't touch there!" Luna yowled, paws flinging forward to latch onto Shay's hand as an extra precaution.

Shay, in spite of herself, hiccupped with laughter. Luna rolled onto her paws, curling into a loaf of pale pastel pink fur and narrowed yellow eyes as she stared up at Shay indignantly.

"Worth the sharp and pointy! I touched the soft and squishy!" Shay crowed. "I touched the belly!"

Six sets of eyes watched her in dubious amusement before Sela barked with glee, joining Shay's raucous laughter.

"Her scratches are, nonetheless, still very super-effective. Look at our trainer. You broke her, Luna." Ambrose said flatly, motioning vaguely to the thin red scratches now blooming across Shay's hand. There was a brief pause, silence falling on all of them before everyone, including Luna, fell into tattered giggles.

* * *

The Rustboro Gym was an architectural oddity in and of itself. Shay had thought she'd be looking for structure more closely aligned with the games; a building that was statuesque, orderly in appearance with a golden rooftop, white stucco walls, shiny glass windows.

Instead, it was irregular, blocky, asymmetrical in design. It looked as though it had once been a part of a mountain, but then that self-same mountain had been carved into and plopped down in the middle of the city. Craggy stone precipices jutted upwards into the air, not unlike the great mountain of Pride Rock from the _Lion King_ , with slabs of great mountain wall piled together to create a somewhat structurally sound edifice where training with rock-types could be conducted.

Attempts at modernizing the building had been made, of course. Gleaming steel bones and glossy glass doors slid open on a pneumonic track, near silent and gliding as they split apart down the center. Large viewing glass windows peered into the building, revealing gleaming black marble shot through with veins of gold as the choice of flooring for the lobby. Twin Rhydon effigies loomed on either side of the entrance, standing atop square pillars and totaling well over eleven feet in height. Their stony countenances were menacing, as their pebbly eyes glared down at all who dared enter the Rustboro Gym.

To Shay's left, an alcove sat, where a receptionist was seated in the cozy confines behind a sleek desk and underneath bright florescent lighting. To her right, a waiting area complete with cozy armchairs and loveseats and tiny coffee tables lay up against a wall slab of dark stone. Off to the side, tucked out of place and nearly missed entirely, were three vending machines: the first distributed hot coffee, hot cocoa, and hot tea; the second had a variety of snack foods such as chips or candy bars; and lastly, the third had cold beverages, like soda or water.

The real eye catcher, however, was the wall décor chosen for the seated waiting area. Swirls of ancient fossils were impressed upon the dusty stone slab. Shay studied them briefly: Omanyte and Kabuto were easily the most recognizable, but the others, she struggled until it hit her. Anorith and Lileep, Hoenn's regional token fossil pokémon. Fragments of fern leaf root feelers and severed claw appendages littered the stone wall, mixed in with Kanto's regional fossil pokémon. She studied the wall a little further, before turning on her heel to step toward the receptionist.

Her boots squeaked along the polished marble flooring, and she winced at how loud it all sounded in the empty space around her. No one else sat in the waiting area, and beyond the lobby, it was all open space. Everything was made of heavy rock—the walls, the floors, the vaulted ceiling. Lights were imbedded in the stone high above them, bright and glaring, leaving no corner shadowed or hidden. A set of bleachers were pulled out and pressed tightly to the wall opposite the gym entrance, a concrete wall dividing the battlefield from any onlookers who wished to observe.

Two kids were strolling the open battlefield, their team of rock-types littered over the open floor plan, socializing and chatting away. A few people lounged away on the bleachers, their voices tinny from where Shay was, but they bounced off the walls, nonetheless. Shay rubbed her hands on her pants, trying to wipe away the sudden outbreak of excess sweat. Licking her lips and trying to not think about her racing pulse, her rapid heart rate, or the buildup of pre-performance anxiety she most likely was experiencing, she leaned on the receptionist's counter.

A young man, perhaps in his late teens, looked up at her and offered a brief smile. He was clean shaven, his white button-up shirt pressed and spotless. He probably didn't have to deal with much of the dirty work down in the battlefield beyond.

"Hi, can I help you?"

Shay nodded, smiling back.

"Hi, yeah. My name's Shay—Shay Kenway. I'm, uh…I'm here to challenge Roxanne?"

The receptionist, she noted, had a nametag pinned to his shirt. It read 'Daniel' in crisp, indented letters on the metal plating. She flicked her eyes back up to meet Daniel's eyes and smiled again.

"First gym match?"

"How'd you guess?"

"You've got that jittery look. It's okay. It happens to a lot of people who come through here." Daniel's smile broke open into a wider grin and he laughed. "I swear, it's the truth. You'd think some of the kids who have been battling for years with their childhood friends and rivals would be ready for a gym-sanctioned battle, but they get just as nervous as the people who hardly ever battle and just decide to up and do it one day. Relax. You'll be okay."

Daniel motioned toward the battlefield. "We have a medical team on standby in case things get too nasty. We try not to kill each other's team mates, but accidents can happen. Just keep that in mind." He paused and motioned for her to wait a moment. Shay remained quiet, staring, as he rolled his office chair to a series of file cabinets, opened a drawer and rifled through the files until he found what he was looking for. He took the pages and clipped to them to a clipboard and handed it to Shay.

"Here. If this is your first gym battle, you'll need to fill out some paperwork. Some liability stuff, consent and understanding, all the good stuff. I'll also need to see your ID when you finish the paperwork."

"You need my consent on file?"

This was…way more complicated than the games. And Professor Birch hadn't really covered this either. Shay hadn't even thought of asking Norman what gym battles were like, or what they entailed to, or anything of that sort. She had spent more time studying and reading and trying to keep Professor Birch on track with her tutoring lessons rather than where she originated from, that it had all slipped her mind entirely.

Daniel bobbed his head to her and turned to the computer wedged against the corner of his desk. His fingers clattered away on the keyboard hidden from Shay's immediate line of sight.

"Yep, we do. It's standard now in Hoenn, really. It used to be more…fluid, I guess you can call it, in terms of tradition and how we used to do things: a challenger comes in, declares they want their team to fight the gym leader's team, a pokémon battle ensues, and whoever wins walks away victorious."

He paused, fingers pausing briefly, and he glanced at Shay, clutching the clipboard, but signing nothing yet. His eyebrows beetled together, and he pursed his lips together, cocking his head to the side as he considered her.

"Don't you know all this already?"

Shay shook her head, raising a hand in mock-surrender. "I'm from Kanto. We kinda do things differently there. Just like you said. Challenger comes in, battle ensues, a winner walks away."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, that makes sense, but why's a Kantonian taking up the Hoenn League Challenge?"

"Change of venue, change of scenery. My… _uncle_ thought it'd be good for me to get out into the world and see what's what out here."

"So, he basically kicked your ass out, huh? Savage," the young man chuckled. Shay decided to neither correct nor encourage him. The less details, the better. She skimmed through the paperwork, shifting her weight from her center of gravitas to her right leg out of habit. Her left hip and thigh burned in relief at the change of position. Standing for too long made her lower back and hip ache.

She furrowed her brow at the statement of understanding and the requirements section, her lips tugging into a deep frown the more she read.

"I have to fight two trainers before hitting up Roxanne?"

"Two trainers, minimum. Standard for all the gyms across Hoenn. The maximum for most of the gyms is eight, if you're looking for a real challenge. I hear in Sootopolis, though, Gym Leader Wallace has about ten trainers you can challenge before getting to him." Daniel paused, sucking in a breath as he swiveled in his chair to face Shay. "The minimum requirement you have to meet, though, is two trainers. For every gym. You _can_ request to fight all trainers under each gym leader's tutelage, but that isn't a requirement. After that, you can battle Gym Leader Roxanne."

"Is there anything else I need to know?"

"You can use a maximum of five items in a match, excluding evolutionary stones on pokémon eligible for that type of evolution. It's up to you what they are. They're listed in the paperwork, if you need a frame of reference. Gym leaders are also allowed to use items, but given that this is their territory, they're allotted unlimited numbers." Daniel motioned to the paperwork again. "One last thing: once you start through the circuit, you can't leave. I mean—you _can_ leave, we're not keeping you prisoner, but if you leave after, say, one trainer battle, to go heal your pokémon at the center, you'll forfeit your streak and have to come back and start all over again. It's all there in the paperwork, but I figure some context is nice to have, in case it isn't clear enough."

 _Okay, wow, way to be overwhelming. Jesus Christ. Okay, positive thoughts, positive thoughts. I can do—we. We can do this. No problem._

Powering through the mantra in her head, Shay nodded automatically, turning to head back to the waiting area before stopping and pointing at Daniel and then at the clipboard. "Do I have to do all of this for every gym?"

"The consent forms, liability and understanding statements, yes. The other stuff underneath is just required to get your name registered officially into the system. That way, the League can keep track of your progress. If you decided to drop out, figure that this isn't the life for you, you can just go to any gym and unregister."

"Who has access to all of this?"

"Umm…official personnel, like myself. Not any of the trainers under a gym leader's tutelage, if that's what you're worried about…oh, the gym leaders of course, and the League members too."

"Pokémon Centers? Professor Birch?"

"No. No, they don't have that access. The League and Professor Birch work in tandem, but they try to keep things like this separate. Less of a hazard, I think, as far as conflict of interests go. Professor Birch wants research and information, not tally marks on kids trying their hand with their League Challenge. And personnel come and go in Pokémon Centers, mostly because they might leave the region or move to different cities. Giving them unfettered access would be problematic." Daniel watched her carefully, sucking in a breath, his body slowly turning in his seat to shift towards his computer. "Is there anything else you need to know?"

"No. No, I think I'm good. I'll go through this and bring it back when I'm done."

"Okay. If you do have any more questions, feel free to ask. It's what I'm here for!" Daniel chirped back. Before Shay had even turned around, he was back to clattering away on his keyboard at a proficient speed. Shay sighed, adjusting her sling-pack and shuffled over to the nearest loveseat.

Thumbing a pokéball at her waist, Shay finally unclipped it and called Keno out. He blinked into the lights, staring up all around him. She smiled at him, taking in his new form.

Bipedal, but easily suited for a quadrupedal stance, his body was streamlined for both water and land alike, but she didn't doubt he'd have an easier time moving in water. He had enough bulk to his build now that leant additional power to his frame. The orange external gills had dulled in colour, and the blue of his skin wasn't as loud either, but his eyes sparked to life with bright amber chased through his irises. Keno bobbed his twin fin tails, wiping his pawed hands across his pale orange belly as he scanned the open gym floor.

"This is Roxanne's gym?" he queried softly, his voice tight and withdrawn. "Do you think we're ready?"

"Faye won't do well here. She'd be crushed in a matter of minutes. Her Brave Bird is a good move, but useless against rock-types. Breela might work out as a second if you need a break. Ambrose, Luna, and Sela won't fare well either. I hate to say it, but it all comes down to you, bud." Shay replied, just as softly, keeping her voice down. She glanced up, gaze flicking toward the receptionist's cubby and desk, but barely saw the top of Daniel's sandy blonde hair bobbing a little above the height of the desk. She looked back at Keno. "You've got this. I know you can do it. You've got type advantage, _and_ you just evolved! This is what we've been working towards for the last two weeks."

"Yeah, I know, but…do you really think we're ready?"

Shay, in spite of her hammering heart and the sound of her blood singing so loudly in her ears it was like a crashing waterfall, grinned at Keno. She was nervous, but she was also excited. Thrilled. They were so close, _so close_ to the real beginning, that giving up was out of the question. They had barely even started. There was no way she was going to quit now.

"We're ready. _You're_ ready, Keno. We've got this in the bag."

Keno shuffled closer and hesitated before throwing his bulky arms around her, leaning heavily into her and the loveseat, face buried against her side. "If you think we're ready, then I believe you."

Shay chuffed softly, and returned the embrace, not even minding the slight buildup of sticky film coated over Keno's skin. It was like being hugged by a salamander. A very large, bipedal salamander who could talk and loved to snuggle. It wasn't long, however, before Keno had to pull away and began scratching at himself.

"I'm still itchy," he complained in a whining voice. Shay snorted, returning to her task of filling out the administered paperwork.

"Professor Birch said it was normal after an evolution. If it keeps up in the next few days, though, he said to have the nurses at the center check you out. Your body's mostly adjusted by now, but we'll keep an eye on things. You'll barely notice it when we get on the field, though."

"If you say so," Keno sighed, plopping down on the ground beside the loveseat. He began to stare at the people and pokémon still milling about on the battlefield.

"After you're done with all that, we're fighting Roxanne, right?"

"Her pokémon, yes. But we have to battle two trainers and their pokémon before that happens."

"Aw, what? Seriously? Why?"

"Rules."

"Human rules _suck_."

"Yeah, I know. But if I have to abide by them, so do you." Shay paused in her writing and reached out to gently rub Keno's head, mindful of the large sailing fin that sloped along his skull. He leaned into her touch with another sigh.

"What pokémon does Roxanne have?"

Shay answered without pausing to think on it. "Geodude and Nosepass. Both rock-types, through and through. You're a water-ground dual-type. You'll blow them out of the arena, guaranteed."

In the games, Roxanne had one of the easiest teams to beat…so long as the player character's team had any pokémon that had advantages over rock-types. It would have really sucked if Shay had had a particular taste towards any pokémon that would struggle greatly or be outright outclassed by Roxanne's team. Like a team consisted solely of bug-types or flying-types, or normal-types with low-grade moves like Scratch or Pound attacks.

She was doubly glad she had chosen to stick with Keno. He had advantages over nearly half the gym leaders in Hoenn.

 _But that won't mean anything if we aren't ready,_ she mused, pursing her lips as she had to reread what was on the paperwork she was staring at for the third time. She finally managed to get the words to soak in: It was for her consenting to battle with the gym leader, as well as a list of liabilities the Rustboro Gym would not be held accountable for, once she signed her name on the forms.

" _In the case of death, dismemberment, or maiming of any sort of any challenging pokémon team members, the Rustboro Gym is not to be held responsible for those events._ "

 _Jeez, they aren't kidding around here. They really don't want any shit to hit the fan in case something goes sideways under their rooftops._ Shay wouldn't have any grounds or a leg to stand on if she tried to sue for reparations or compensation if any of that happened.

" _If a pokémon is too injured to continue in battle, they must be recalled. The gym and its staff are trying to avoid any unnecessary deaths or risks, but in gym battles, there is always a risk. If a pokémon is too injured to make the trek across the city, medical personnel that are on-call in the gym will help stabilize the injured pokémon and in highly urgent cases, transport the injured party to the healing facility after stabilization._ "

It continued on like that for the whole page and then some on the following page, before she had to sign and date the paperwork. When she was finally done at last, she got up and trekked over to the desk, handing the clipboard and her trainer ID to Daniel. He thanked her and told her she'd need to wait so that the challenging trainers could get ready. He did something with her trainer ID first, and within a few seconds, was handing it back to her, smiling.

"I'll process the rest of this in, but it shouldn't be more than ten minutes. They'll call your name when they're ready."

"Oh, I have one more question. Why is there a mandatory requirement for challengers to battle trainers before taking on a gym leader?" She hesitated before quickly adding, "They do things differently in Kanto, so that's why I'm asking."

Daniel, bless him, seemed to accept the explanation and didn't prod any further, his features smoothing out easily as he swiveled his chair to face her.

"In the simplest and easiest terms to explain it? We're trying to weed out trainers that aren't all that serious in challenging the gym circuit and the League. We've had problems in the past with trainers who came swaggering through, carrying a whole team of greenhorn pokémon that just weren't ready or they were too ill-fit for the strenuous gym challenges, or they weren't properly cared for at all and the trainers just…flung bodies at the gym leaders. It was a really bad problem, with unnecessary deaths or permanently injured pokémon at an all-time high across the Hoenn region. When Steven became Champion, he implemented systematic changes to how things were run, drafted new regulations to protect not only pokémon but their trainers as well."

Daniel shrugged and huffed out a breath. "I was just kid when all this happened, but it drastically changed up how we were taught in school, and Steven even changed the law to how old a trainer has to be before they undertake the League challenge. It used to be ten. Can you believe that? Ten-year-old kids barely understand what's going on with their own bodies, never mind how to understand and care for the individualistic needs for a team of pokémon. Plus, they don't fully realize how dangerous some pokémon can be, especially when they're in the hands of some hormonal little shithead, ya know?"

Shay laughed and stole a glance at Keno, who had come over to her side. He gazed up at her, his mouth pulling into an awkward, but recognizable smile, his amber-orange eyes glinting happily. She palmed the side of his head, running her thumb up and down. She turned back to Daniel, curiousity stealing over her.

"Did you ever try to go for it? Challenging the gym leaders, I mean."

Daniel guffawed, shaking his head. "God, no! I'm too busy with studying, when I'm not working here. I hope to become a regional professor's assistant someday. Maybe not with Professor Birch, except maybe if he decides to step down in the next decade or so and someone else takes over. He's pretty picky with his research assistants and they tend to stay on for quite a while, so it's always a fight to get into the program. But maybe somewhere outside Hoenn, if that doesn't happen? I hear Professor Sycamore in Kalos is always looking every couple of years."

"That sounds like fun." Shay hummed back, before politely thanking him and returning to the waiting area. It wasn't long, however, before she had to get up, a slight pull of hunger tugging her toward the vending machines. Alien food brands stared her down from their coiled perches. Some she recognized, vaguely, from the times she and Norman had gone shopping, but the others were still oddities to her. She finally settled on some chips that looked like they were salt and vinegar flavoured, and two water bottles from the other vending machine. She opened one and handed it to Keno. He gratefully took it and chugged it messily as Shay opened her chips and took a tentative, experimental nibble. It tasted a little off, but it would do for the time being.

"Thanks, Shay. I feel little bit better."

She patted his head again, smiling. "Not a problem. Do you itch as much?"

"A little, still. But maybe I should soak when we get back to the center. It might help."

"Yeah." She sighed, her attention already waning and drifting to the battlefield. Daniel was crossing the distance to the kids and they gathered around him, briefly, before splitting off into different directions. Most remained on the bleachers. One moved off to a door off the side of the bleachers and disappeared through it. The last was trotting up to the lobby.

It was a young kid, perhaps ten or a little older, donning a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a plain t-shirt with a simplistic, repeating rock-like patterns and sneakers. His chestnut brown hair stuck up at odd angles, like he had rolled out of bed and hadn't bothered to comb it down. Shay's first thought was, _Nasty ass_ , before she shook it away.

It didn't matter what the hell the kid looked like. It didn't negate his battle skills, whatever they may be. She shared a look with Keno.

"Hey, you're Shay Kenway, right? The challenger?"

"No, Shay Kenway's invisible. She's over there." Shay pointed to the couch opposite her. The kid snickered and she grinned back, standing and slipping her bag of chips into her sling-pack. Keno crunched the water bottle in his paws, looking between her and the trainer uncertainly.

"Oh, hey, you can throw it away in that trashcan over there. See it?"

Shay and Keno looked at the same time and saw the little black trashcan the kid pointed out. Keno shuffled over and tossed it in, then shuffled back to Shay's side, looking pleased as punch.

"So, where do you want us?"

"Follow me," the kid said, turning on his heel and waving for them to do as such. There was a set of stairs leading to the arena, and as soon as her boots hit the terrain, gravel and dirt and pebbles crunched underfoot. Daniel passed them on his way back and he flashed her a thumbs up and a grin.

"Good luck, Miss Kenway!"

She nodded to him, returning the smile. The kid split off from her and motioned for Shay to take up the other side of the battlefield. She stood at the far end, right behind the painted white lines she hadn't noticed until she had gotten closer and turned to face the young boy opposite her. He nodded to her, and then to a tall woman with dark hair and donning a pair of casual charcoal black shorts and a halter top with floral patterns dotting it off by the bleachers. She took this as a cue and leapt over the barricade to trot over to the middle line just outside the arena.

"Challenger Kenway, you can use as many pokémon as you want in this battle, with the maximum being six. You can use a maximum of five items for this battle. If you win this battle and then choose to leave the gym before you battle Gym Leader Roxanne, you'll forfeit the chance to battle her. If you return to the gym at a later date, you'll have to start your challenge all over again. If your pokémon are too injured or are knocked out and cannot continue, you must recall them. The first trainer that has an entire team that cannot continue on is the loser and the trainer with at least one pokémon still standing wins."

The tall woman looked Shay over, before turning to look at the boy standing opposite her. He nodded to her and flashed a thumbs up.

"I know the rules, Julia. Let's get this going."

The wall behind the bleachers suddenly trembled and hissed, sliding on pneumatic tracks to reveal a jumbo screen behind it. The screen was dark for several moments before it winked to life, flashing brightly. The boy's picture along with his name—Tommy Shanks—showed up on the bottom of the screen, his team of pokémon filling up only one out of six slots: a solitary Geodude. Shay's picture appeared above it, from her trainer identification card, along with her team of pokémon. All six slots were filled out, with Keno sitting front and center in the first.

"If both of you are ready, bring out your first pokémon," the tall woman, Julia, announced. Shay met Tommy's eyes from across the arena and his face split into a wide grin.

He immediately sent out one of his Geodude with a loud cry of, "Let's go, Clay!"

Spilling from the light, a Geodude formed, hard and still and balled up on Tommy's side of the arena. She studied the Geodude, momentarily fascinated by it. It was a squat little thing, a bundled ball of craggy, uneven stone, with two appendages protruding out of its sides. In all honesty, it was rather faithful to the original game art. It even _floated_ above the arena floor, and while curiousity bit at her, she didn't the time to ask questions. She shook the thoughts away and Keno, standing beside Shay, took only a simple glance at her, before trotting onto the battlefield.

"Are you both ready?" Julia called, looking first to Tommy, and to Shay second. They both nodded in agreement to her, and she raised a hand into the air, letting the seconds linger, before cutting her arm down and shouting, "BEGIN!"

Tommy was quick to rouse his Geodude into action. "Clay, use Rollout!"

Shay was just as quick. Her heart gave a sudden thump against her ribcage and words swelled up in her chest, building up into her throat, before spilling out of her mouth in a matter of seconds.

"Use Mud Shot, Keno! Blow that Geodude out of the water!"

"But there isn't any water!" Keno replied, looking over his shoulder uncertainly. Shay made a noise of frustration before flapping her arm at him to turn around. The Geodude was barreling straight for Keno at a frightening speed, spinning too impossibly fast to keep track off. Dust, grit, and pebbles flew in the wake of its rolling rampage, obscuring parts of the arena for several, lingering moments.

"MUD SHOT, NOW!"

Keno didn't argue the second time around and spat out a mud-glob against the oncoming Geodude. Tommy's cry to his pokémon to change course and avoid the attack fell on deaf ears, and got hit, full-on. Clay's Rollout attack guttered to a clumsy stop and the Geodude bowled over itself clumsily, gunky sludge tarring its entire body. It shuddered on the spot, an arm trembling visibly as it lifted it before flopping to the ground, useless.

Tommy was quick to recall his pokémon, staring at Shay with wide eyes. Julia didn't hesitate to call the victory in favour of Shay, motioning with a sweep of her arm out to the young woman.

"Challenger Shay Kenway will proceed to her next match, with Georgia Wuntch. Challenger Kenway, if you wish to check over your pokémon before your next match, now is the time to do it. Your item restrictions will restart once the next match begins. You have five minutes to prepare."

Shay nodded to Julia, whilst Tommy traipsed off from his side of the arena, his head hanging low. Keno came trotting back to her, and practically leapt into her arms, grinning like mad. She stumbled back several steps, taken aback by Keno's overenthusiastic reaction and at the sudden feeling of his heavy weight slamming into her. She couldn't blame him, however; he's been excited and anxious for weeks on end for this day.

"Didja see me?! I blew that Geodude out of the water, just like you asked! But I don't really get it, we don't have any water around here, just rocks. So, wouldn't it be more like ' _blow them out of the rocks_ '? But that doesn't sound as good."

"It's an expression," Shay whispered, laughing when he nuzzled her face and squeezed her tightly. She squeezed back, pride swelling in her chest. Shay was reluctant to let go, but she had to. Slowly, she pulled back, and gathering her intent, Keno did the same. She checked him over, but he was, overall, unscathed. There was a fire in his amber-orange eyes. She wasn't about to put it out by discouraging him. Giving him another grin, she nodded.

"You're good to go, Keno. You ready for the next round?"

Keno whipped around and trotted back out onto the battlefield as his way for an answer. She straightened, nodding to Julia off to the side. A young girl had taken up a position on the other end of the arena from Shay whilst she had been checking Keno over, looking ready to go. She too donned a similar t-shirt as Tommy bore—plain and simplistic, with repeating chains of rock-like patterns emblazoned across it. She too wore shorts and a pair of sturdy-looking tennis shoes, but hers were louder and bore more vibrant—bordering on neon—colours. Her pale frizzy red-gold hair was swept back into as tamable a ponytail she could probably manage, although smaller strands had popped out and were flying freely now.

She grinned at Shay and waved excitedly to her. Shay, hesitant, gave a short wave back.

"Let's have fun, okay?!" The girl—Georgia, Shay belated remembered her name as—shouted to her, her hands cupped around her mouth to amplify her voice. Shay shrugged—then stopped herself and flashed a thumbs-up to Georgia. She jumped a few times into the air enthusiastically before Julia cleared her throat loudly.

"Challenger Shay Kenway, are you and your team ready?"

Shay flashed another thumbs-up.

"Georgia, are you good to go?"

"Ready, Julia!"

"All right then." Julia raised her hand upwards, just as she had the last match, and the air was tight and tense, if only for a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime had passed before Julia sliced her arm downwards, signaling the start of the match with a bellow, "BEGIN!"

Georgia immediately tossed a pokéball out, and from the confines of the little device, a Geodude emerged, looking as craggy and squat and long-armed as the last. Only, something caught Shay's attention, brief and surprising. Little pink bows were tied to the biceps of each arm on the Geodude. It boggled Shay for several, belated moments. She startled when Georgia shouted a command to her pokémon, and it jumpstarted into action immediately.

Another Rollout attack, Shay recognized, as the Geodude dove into a curled position and was ripping down the arena straight for Keno.

"Keno, use Mud Shot! Slow it down!"

"Dodge it, Marble! Swing out of the way!"

Keno spat out a tremendous muddy glob toward the oncoming Geodude, but just as the shot was about to connect, the Geodude change direction suddenly, spinning right out of harm's way. Before Shay could shout a warning for Keno to get out of the way, Marble the Geodude landed a hit. It sent Keno flying across the arena, and he tumbled over himself several times and lay on the ground, unmoving. A dust cloud settled over the arena, making it hard to see Keno for a few seconds. Shay could hear her heartbeat pounding through her head so loudly, she could barely hear anything else.

Relief swelled inside of her like a growing tide when Keno finally moved after an eternity of waiting, hoping, fearing. Marble was doubling-back for another hit and was picking up speed at a frightening pace. Keno was on his feet when Marble came barreling down the arena at him, and before Shay could open her mouth, he was already dodging Rollout attack. Losing some momentum and steam, the Geodude tumbled over to a stop before its rocky girth lifted off the arena floor and turned to face Keno. He wiped his chest and winced visibly.

"You okay Keno?" Shay called to him. He glanced over his shoulder at her, nodding.

"I'm okay. Let's keep going."

Shay let out a heavy breath she hadn't known she was holding, and realized she had her hand gripping Breela's pokéball on her belt. She reluctantly dropped it and nodded back.

"Okay. Let's keep going," she agreed.

"Marble, gear up for another Rollout attack—!"

"WATER GUN!"

Keno obliged, rapidly blasting a stream of water from his maw, and it hit the Geodude square on. The Geodude squealed in surprise—a noise Shay hadn't expected it to make—before collapsing on the arena floor, the pink bows sopping wet and sagging to the soaked ground. Georgia stood stock still, eyes wide and staring. She only moved when Julia declared Shay the winner. She returned her Geodude and fled without saying a word or glancing Shay's way once.

Julia crossed the battlefield to join Shay, smiling sympathetically as Shay watched Georgia disappear from sight.

"Don't feel too bad for her. She only ever has fun when she's winning. A bit hypocritical, but Georgia will be fine in a few hours. She bounces back real quick." Julia sobered, before offering a hand. Shay reached out and grabbed it. Julia's hand engulfed hers. Keno came trotting up from behind Julia and swung around to cling to Shay's side. She reached back with her other hand and laid it atop his head in comfort. "Congrats on making it this far. If you'd like, you can challenge the third and last trainer of this gym before facing Roxanne, or I can get her right now and we can get this thing underway."

Shay beamed up at the taller woman, excitement coursing through her. "Let's get this show on the road and rock it."

Julia snorted and laughed. "Okay, not the first rock pun we've gotten, but definitely not the worst one. I'll be right back. Take this time to check on your Marshtomp while I'm gone."

As soon as Julia was out of earshot, Shay ducked to one knee, immediately checking him over. An angry, red scrape decorated a good chunk of his chest, and a few smaller cuts were sprinkled across one of his cheeks beside his external gills, a shoulder, and the palms of his hands. She was already whipping out a few potion vials. Keno held still as she applied the spray, and his wounds nearly all closed and healed up, but she could feel him practically vibrating with elation.

Satisfied after checking him once again and seeing no other injuries, he finally leapt at her, arms flinging around her neck and gripping her in a tight hug.

"I won, didja see that? Even though I got hit, I won!" When he backed up, he rubbed at his chest and his cheek, this time without flinching. "But that really _hurt_. Rock-type pokémon are _hard_ and _heavy_."

"Well, this _is_ your first time fighting one."

"Yeah, I guess so," he mumbled back, mouth pressing tightly together. He looked back up at her, searching her face. "D'ya think Roxanne will be easier?"

"Gym leaders tend to be pretty strong…but I think Roxanne might be easier to battle than other ones."

Keno perked at that, the external gills along his cheeks rippled and twitched, and his amber-orange eyes glittered brightly.

"How're you feeling?" Shay pressed, eyes flicking from his momentarily when she saw Julia returning—and in tow, Roxanne was trailing behind her.

"I'm good, Shay! I can keep going! Please don't send Breela out, she's still really timid. She'll get hurt. And I don't wanna see anything bad happen to her…Shay?"

She blinked, shaking her head and looking back at Keno, but he turned and began to stare as well. "Is that her," he whispered, leaning closer to her. His external gills tickled her face and Shay leaned back, gently pushing his frilly gills away. He leaned away, apologetic as he preened himself before returning to his open staring.

"Is that Roxanne?" he repeated, and Shay muttered an affirmative to him. His dual tailfins quivered and twitched as he, alongside his trainer, watched Roxanne approach.

She was faithful to her game design, Shay noted almost immediately off the bat: Her warm-grey dress was latticed through with dust-grey designs and while it wasn't as poufy or blown out, but it was short, stopping just above her knees. It was accompanied by bright pink tights that complemented the grey, along with dark and sensible flats. The top of the dress was layered over a short white blouse and pink scarf, giving the impression of a business outfit…or perhaps that of an educator, at the very least. It was something she expected a second-grade teacher to wear. Her hair was pulled up into twin buns atop her head and the excess was allowed to flow freely down the sides, like pigtails. To top off the ensemble, a magenta bow was clipped to the back of her head, just barely peeking out to be visible from the front.

Roxanne was laughing at something Julia said, her hand covering her mouth to hide her smile, eyes closing momentarily. When they were within earshot, Roxanne glanced Shay's way, the gym leader's hand dropped and she flashed a smile her way and dismissed Julia with a wave of her hand and a friendly goodbye.

"You must be Shay Kenway. I'm Roxanne, Rustboro City's gym leader. It's great to meet you," Roxanne said as she extended her hand out. Shay took it in her hand and shook it. "Julia said you took out Tommy and Georgia in record time. Most newcomers that come through here have a hard time. You must have trained especially hard before coming here, and exceptionally with an evolved starter from Professor Birch."

"I figured it was the smart thing to do, instead of just coming straight here from Littleroot and not having done any training."

Roxanne and Shay pulled their hands back and Roxanne looked her up and down.

"True. But you also look a little older than most of my opponents, so you have some wisdom on your side, I assume."

"How old do you think I am?" Shay blurted, genuinely curious. Most people, like Norman and Professor Birch alike, assumed she was in her late teens, early twenties at most. A majority would never have guessed her age accurately.

"Twenty-seven," Roxanne chuckled, and for a brief second, Shay was speechless. Then she laughed.

"My trainer ID."

"Right. Surprising. You don't look like you're nearing your thirties."

"Thanks…I think?"

Roxanne smiled again, before motioning to her side of the arena. "How about we get this battle going, huh? Good luck."

With a wave, she turned on her heel and strolled across the length of the open space to her side. Shay glanced at Keno, sharing a look. "You ready, bud?"

He nodded to her, mouth pulling back into that awkward, toothless smile that reminded her of a certain, playful, and loveable dragon. She smiled back, ready to offer another encouraging platitude, when suddenly she stopped before she even began.

The ground beneath her was shuddering, quaking, like it was the beginnings of an earthquake—and then seams appeared along the rocky soil and split apart. Shay and Keno alike scrambled out of the way just as the floor broke and slid back, allowing for a tower to arise from the depths of the hidden compartment. No, not a tower—a battle platform. The glossy paint finish was covered in a light coat of dust, but otherwise, it looked largely unmarred…at least, it did from the back. She couldn't speak for the front, which no doubt had been battered with multiple past battles.

Shay approached the platform, while Keno circled around to the other side. When Shay was settled, it moved up on a track, allowing her to see over the entire battlefield. Roxanne was already atop her own platform, looking ready as ever. Julia took her place along the median, just as she had the previous two battles.

Keno hovered below, right against the base of Shay's platform. She had to lean over to see him, staring out at Roxanne.

"Keno!" Shay stage-whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. He looked around, puzzled, before throwing his gaze upwards. He twirled on his feet until he was facing the platform and stared at Shay.

"You okay down there?"

"Um…I…I guess."

Shay frowned at the uncertainty and anxiety lining his tone. "You sure? I can send Breela if you're not up for it—"

"No! No, I can do it. I can do it. She still gets really scared in battles. I don't want her to get hurt just because I'm a little nervous. Please don't do that to her, Shay."

She was taken aback by his altruistic plea, but bobbed her head to him nonetheless. He was sweet, worrying about the others like this. He was right, however. Breela was still very timid and modest, especially in battles. She hoped the little Shroomish could overcome that, especially if she wanted to evolve.

"If you feel up for this battle, I trust you, Keno."

"Challenger Shay Kenway! I welcome you again to the Rustboro City Gym!"

Shay and Keno alike looked up to see Roxanne looking directly at them. A small microphone hovered by her face, popping up out of the front of the platform's rim. Shay glanced down and saw another like it sliding into view from her platform. Roxanne continued.

"Julia has already explained the rules to you, but would you like a reminder of them again?"

"No, I think I'm good," Shay said, leaning toward the microphone. Her voice, now greatly amplified, bounced across the gym walls, same as Roxanne's had. A strange hush had fallen around them in the wake of their voices, and Shay glanced at the bleachers, realizing that the crowd of children lounging about had grown silent.

Anticipation hung heavy in the air, unspoken yet felt nonetheless. Roxanne's sigh carried across the void between them.

"All right, then. I hope you're ready, Challenger Shay Kenway."

With a nod to Julia, the tall woman stepped forward, looked to Roxanne first and then to Shay. She lifted her arm for a third time that day, high above her head, and the wait was palpably tense. It was a physically blissful relief when she finally sliced the air with her arm and hand, thrusting it downward like the swing of a sword.

"BEGIN!"

* * *

 _ **Additional Notes:**_ **As a reminder,** **I am always super-careful in my battles and tend to be paranoid, so I carried a lot of medicines to prevent or fix status-encumbering inflictions or low HP statuses.**

 **With that reminder in place, for story purposes, there were some obvious restrictions and regulations that I felt were necessary to throw in. Hooray, exposition! Also, Keno evolved right before the first gym battle, and it wasn't anything special at the time. I didn't feel every nitty-gritty detail needed to be showed off for the story's sake, so I excluded showing the evolution—although in all fairness, it was originally included. It was cut, however, due to length and the scene dragging on.**

 **I have a majority of the story written down somewhere—major events, plot points, minor changes here and there—and as a result, I've also drafted up a tentative playlist for this story. I'm still tweaking it and adjusting what should go where, but if anyone is curious to listen, let me know, and I'll post it on 8tracks! (I will say I wish I could have more Gustavo Santaolalla pieces, but alas, the two songs limit on 8tracks constrains me so…)**

 **Lastly, Keno is my little brave guy and he is a Good Boi. You can't change my mind.**

 **And if you'd be so kind, please leave a comment or constructive critique in the review box! I'd greatly appreciate it, and as always, I'd love to hear from you guys!**


	13. Chapter Twelve: Between a Rock

**Chapter Twelve:  
Between a Rock and Hard Place**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 **Notes: I am…so very sorry, my lovelies. I had originally completed this chapter way back in December and had it queued, but I did a very dumb thing, indeed. See, I utilize two Macs for my writings; a desktop monitor and a more portable MacBook Pro laptop. I had finished this chapter originally on my desk monitor, saved it, called it a day. I had unwittingly had the same chapter file open on my laptop. When I went to use the laptop, I saw I had the chapter, saved it, closed down the file, called it a day…and then proceeded to panic when I realized I had effectively erased all my work and I had no way of getting it back via the usual routes that entail to Mac systems. Believe me, I tried recovering previous save progresses, and it didn't work.**

 **I am not happy with myself, and I am so very sorry for the wait. Having all my work erased due to my very dumb error knocked the proverbial creative wind out of me and stunted my progress. Nearly twenty pages of work, gone. If any of you write, I'm sure you can understand what a devastating blow it can be to have to start over, from complete and utter scratch.**

 **I'm just glad I finally managed to complete this chapter so that you guys can enjoy it.**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

* * *

" _If anything goes wrong, I'm holding you responsible."  
"Yeah, _that'll _teach me."_  
 **-Lana Kane and Sterling Archer, "** _ **Archer**_ **"**

* * *

"Crissa, let's win this battle! Start off with a Tackle!"

Roxanne wasted no time at all in getting the match started up. Crissa, as Roxanne had called her Geodude as, slammed its hands, palm down onto the ground, and let out a scream before hurtling forward with surprising speed and momentum toward Keno. He was just as unprepared as Shay was as Crissa slammed its entire body into Keno's abdomen, sending the Marshtomp flying across the battlefield. Keno let out a startled and painful yelp and did so again as he was smashed into the base of the platform Shay was standing on.

Shay clung to the handrails along the platform, her heart giving a painful wrenching jolt as it shuddered from the impact. Her hands were shaking but she only tightened her grip and leaned forward to look down at the pokémon below. Crissa was already backpedaling its way back to the arena proper. The Marshtomp slowly picked himself back up, shaky but still in the fight. Shay cast a quick glance over at the screen and found about a third of Keno's health had been whittled away. _Still in the green, though. That's a good sign, isn't it?_

She didn't waste time pondering it.

"Keno, let's hit this off with a Mud Shot attack, now!"

Keno obliged on command, spurting out a gunky mass from his broad mouth and lobbing it across the arena toward Crissa. Roxanne called out to her pokémon to dodge the attack, but it was too little, too late. The attack hit Crissa dead-on and with enough force to bowl the Geodude several times over. Crissa finally came to a stop and remained there.

There was a sudden hush from the people watching on the bleachers, and only in their abrupt silence did Shay realize how quiet it had grown.

Excitement and hope coursed through Shay's veins as she stared expectantly at the opposing pokémon lying still on the arena floor where the Geodude had come to rest. Crissa didn't move for the longest time. Shay spared a glance at the monitor and felt her sensation of victory come to a halt. Hovering beneath Crissa's profile on screen was the hit points left. A damning little sliver of red was just barely hanging in there. Shay turned back on a dime, whirling to glance over at Keno. Across from him, the Geodude was slowly, labourously pushing back up into a fighting position.

 _Geodude has the sturdy ability,_ she recalled with a grimace. _No one-hit knockouts for us._

"Quick, get in there and finish it off with a Water Gun attack!"

"Crissa, dodge that attack!" Roxanne commanded, her voice booming over the microphone on her platform to echo all around them.

"Don't let them get away, Keno; you can do this," Shay encouraged Keno in return. The Marshtomp scurried after the slowly retreating Geodude, only unleashing a steady high-powered torrent of water onto Crissa when he was closer.

The attack hit the Geodude head-on, sending it spinning across the battlefield several times in a graceless manner. Crissa attempted to stop its trajectory by grabbing hold of the ground, but stopped after the second or third try, until the attack had run its course. Shay held her breath, glancing between the monitor and the motionless Crissa. Movement caught her eye and she saw Julia raising an arm and pointed in her direction.

"Crissa the Geodude is unable to battle! Challenger Shay Kenway is the winner of this round!"

A smattering of polite applause came from the bleachers. Some of the kids watching the match were whispering to one another, and a few others pointed between her and Roxanne. What was being exchanged, however, was lost on her.

"Impressive," Roxanne said, startling Shay and she affixed her attention back on the gym leader across from her. "You've raised your Marshtomp fairly well. But I have to wonder if it will fare any better against my next pokémon."

 _Keno isn't an 'it', he's a he,_ Shay thought with a slight frown, but kept the chiding remark to herself. Roxanne returned Crissa and pulled a secondary pokéball up, letting it out.

Amidst the miniature nova of light and energy, the familiar blocky stature of Nosepass coalesced into being. It was just as faithful to its game art as Shay could recall; it had the same squat, compact shale-blue build and iconic red nose that made it stand out. Overall, its design was reminiscent of the Easter Island statues of her world, just like it had been modeled after…

The Nosepass wiggled its stubby arms, as though it was warming itself for the oncoming battle.

"All right, Azzie, it's just down to you! Let's win this battle," Roxanne barked, once again allowing her voice to boom and echo across the confines of the gym's walls. Shay steeled herself and stole a sparing glance at the monitor. Keno was still in the green. Barely. One hand fell to her waist and she swiveled her thumb in circles around Breela's pokéball.

 _He can do this,_ she thought, forcing herself to retract her hand. She trusted Keno to fight to his fullest. He was ready. _They_ were ready.

Keno settled himself back on their side of the battlefield, facing Roxanne and her Nosepass. Julia looked to Shay, and then to Roxanne, before raising in her voice and belting out, "Are you both ready?"

She looked to see Shay and Roxanne both nodding. Julia raised a hand high up and slashed it down, as she has done in all previous matches throughout the day. "Begin!"

"Azzie, hit that Marshtomp with a Rock Tomb! Bury it quick!" Roxanne ordered quickly without fanfare.

Shay reacted just as swiftly, shouting to Keno, "Dodge it and hit it with Mud Shot! Don't let it get you!"

The arena battlefield began to shake and shiver around the Nosepass and the vibrations carried all the way across to where Shay stood. She felt them rattle the railing beneath her white-knuckled grip and she sucked in a breath, sharp and quick, as large stones began to shake themselves free from the arena ground and floating upwards to hover around the Nosepass. Keno stood still, watching, mesmerized just as Shay was.

Belatedly, she leaned forward and shouted a warning, but it was too late. The rocks floating in the air suddenly hurtled toward Keno. He ducked and dodged some of the first stones as they flew past. Those struck against the platform below Shay. She fought to stay upright, her balance knocked clean out from under her. She had to haul herself back up and as she did, a boulder struck Keno head-on, flinging him against the platform for a second time. More flying debris flew to converge on Keno's position, burying him beneath the stony detritus.

Stone struck stone, and debris flew everywhere. Shay ducked as shards flew upwards and sailed further past the platform. Her heart pounded like a timpani drum, beating away a painful tattoo against the back of her ribcage as she counted in her head before slowly peeping back up, forcing her suddenly gelatinous legs to harden up and support her once again.

Shay's mouth and throat went dry and at first, she couldn't find the strength to speak. She whipped her head to look at the monitor, watching as green gave way to orange, but Keno was still in the fight.

She leaned forward until she was halfway off, looking straight down at the rubble piled below.

"Keno? Keno, can you hear me?"

Seconds, minutes, hours, an eternity passed before she saw movement below. A few slabs heaved upward, fell back down, then pushed up, up, and off the buried body within the heart of the stony tomb. Keno expelled loudly, pulling himself up and out, tumbled gracelessly back onto the arena floor proper, and stood at last. Scrapes, cuts, and a myriad of bruises were already blooming across his body.

"Keno, are you okay?"

He turned his head slightly to glance at her and offered a thumbs-up in her direction. She hesitated, studying his injuries with growing concern. She found herself thumbing Breela's pokéball once more, torn between wanting to trust Keno to handle the gym battle, or to keep him safe and change him out.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine. Hurt my hand a little bit, but…but I'm fine! I can keep going. Really, Shay!"

She bit her lip and chewed on it indecisively. He didn't wait. He turned his back to her, facing Azzie and crouched, looking ready to go. Shay expelled a soft breath.

 _He can do this_ , she told herself, over and over again, like a prayer. _He can do this._ "Keno, let's try this one more time! Mud Shot attack!"

Roxanne shouted to her Nosepass to throw out another Rock Tomb attack. Keno was faster this time around; another barrage of muddy globs shot forth and struck Azzie several times, slamming it back several feet for every hit.

From the corner of Shay's eye, she saw Azzie's hit points slowly degrade until nothing was left. A frisson of excitement tentatively bubbled up inside her, cool and refreshing compared to the hot, needle-like pain of fear that had threatened to strike at any moment before. The Nosepass wobbled unsteadily for a brief moment, then went toppling over without fanfare. A small spurt of dust flew into the air. The reverberating crash brought forth a period of silence as the last of the tremors faded. No one dare say anything, didn't dare to breath. The hush continued to linger around them as the dust around Azzie began to settle back down, most of it clinging to the muck covering its stone body.

Julia was the first to move. She thrust her hand in Shay's direction and shouted, "Azzie the Nosepass is unable to battle. Challenger Shay Kenway wins!"

There was no series of claps this time around. Those sitting in the bleachers stared, whispering to one another. The platform Shay stood on trembled and began to lower. She felt like collapsing. All of her energy was completely spent and she found herself covered in a light sheen of sweat and dust. She halfheartedly swiped her hands on her pants and found them still shaking from the residual adrenaline still coursing through her. Keno rounded the corner of the platform and knocked her off her feet as soon as she stepped off the platform, arms clinging around her tightly. She laughed, hugging him back.

"We did it! We did it! We _won_!" Keno crowed happily into her ear.

"You mean _you_ won. All I did was shout at you to do things."

"I know, but still," he remarked excitedly, peeling himself away. His expression dropped abruptly, silence cutting off whatever else he wanted to say and he stared dumbfoundedly at her. She noticed his enthusiasm drop away and stared back.

"Keno? What's wrong? What is it?"

"You…you're hurt! Your head, it's got rocks in it!"

Shay blinked at him, suddenly struck slow and dumb by his remark. He pointed to her temple and then motioned to his own. His voice was quiet as he added, "Right here, on your head."

She reached up, tentative and apprehensive as she did, and winced as her fingers brushed along uneven edges that jutted out at least an inch or two from her skull. Pain flared at the jostling motion and she clenched her jaw with a hiss.

Keno reached for her as well, but stopped suddenly, and pulled his hand back. "How bad does it hurt?"

"It's…debatable at this point. I didn't even feel it happen," she mumbled miserably. "I thought I dodged it all, but I guess not."

She bit her lip, looking back up at Keno and noticed how he held his arm. The dark bloom of a bruise on his wrist caught her eye and she reached for him, ignoring the cry of protest he made when she gently tugged him over.

"C'mere, let me see that—Jesus, Keno, I should be the one asking if you're all right! Did you break your arm?"

"I'm fine, I'm not the one with rocks in my head!"

"I'm not the one who has a broken arm," Shay retorted stubbornly. Keno couldn't meet her gaze when she made that point and instead made a sputtering noise. Shay dug into her sling-pack and went on, "Let's get you fixed up, and then we can worry about me."

Shay fumbled with the zipper but finally got it to slip down its track and pulled out the familiar groove-necked potion bottle and Keno grudgingly settled beside her and allowed her to apply the medicine. She mumbled a few sweet nothings to him, but her mouth clacked shut right before she could utter another word to Keno, as she saw Roxanne and Julia rounding the corner of the platform. Their smiles dissipated instantly when they laid eyes on Shay.

Julia covered her mouth with a hand, and Roxanne pinched her lips tightly together. Tilting her head toward Julia, she said, "Go get the medics. Tell them to bring the kit."

Julia nodded mutely, turned on her heel and fled from sight. Roxanne came closer and knelt beside Shay. Keno hovered on his trainer's other side, looking between the two women.

"Does it hurt?"

"I didn't even feel it hit me," Shay replied honestly. Roxanne came over to Shay, and Keno scuttled out of the way as the other woman quietly studied Shay's temple, her gaze focused and unwavering. "I thought I ducked in time when the worst of it went flying around the place."

"I've had rock shards flying around before. Usually it's contained on the arena floor and we've rarely ever had a trainer hurt. It happens, but not all that often." Roxanne paused, considering her next words before adding, "You'll be fine, but I'm sure the medics here in the gym will want you to go to the hospital if they can't remove the debris."

"Whoa, remove it? Just…pluck it out?"

"It doesn't look like it went in deep, might not have pierced the bone, but they'll be the ones examining you on that front. I can't honestly say, I don't have any formal training. They may want to have you moved to the hospital for removal if they can't do it."

"Shay? Shay, you're going to be okay, aren't you?" Keno mumbled at her and she glanced at the Marshtomp, who fretting nervously. She offered him a small reassuring smile.

"I'm gonna be okay, Keno. Hey, c'mere, it's okay. I promise, little dude."

Roxanne quietly waited beside Shay and Keno for the medics. When they finally came, they bustled into action, performing quick triage on her before doing anything else. They both donned dark trousers and white button-up shirts with a red cross emblazoned on the right side of their chests. Keno continued to fidget nervously at Shay's side, despite the little reassurances she kept giving him. She reached over and grabbed his good hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze and a small smile as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

The man who had performed the triage began to gently prod at the rock piece imbedded in Shay's head and she winced, hissing and jerking from his touch. She noticed a nametag pinned above the red cross that said 'Robert'. The other man's nametag she couldn't read.

"The bone most likely stopped the rock just short of hitting your brain, but I can't say for sure. If we can remove the shards here, great—if not, we'll call up an ambulance and have you transferred to the Milotic Mercy Hospital here in Rustboro," he told her. Shay nodded to him and flicked her gaze to the other. From the corner of her eye, Shay could see Roxanne pinching her lips tightly together and tapping a foot nervously.

The other man was rummaging through his pack, and extracted a vial of clear liquid, a syringe and needle, and a suture kit. She eyed the syringe as the cover on its needle was removed and driven into the vial of liquid.

"Um…what's in there, if you don't mind my asking," she inquired, nodding to the vial in question. Did she sound nervous? She hoped she didn't sound nervous, never mind panicky.

Without looking at her, the man answered, "Morphine for the pain. It isn't going to be fun trying to remove that rubble from your skull and getting stitches on top of that. We'll also give you a localized anesthetic but given the location…it might be tricky getting everything numbed up enough. Might just have to grit your teeth and bear it. Um…but don't actually grit your teeth. We don't need you cracking them open on top of everything else."

He gently removed the needle from the vial and flicked the side of the syringe several times as he depressed the plunger ever so slightly until the air bubbles were gone and a small spurt of liquid popped out. "There. That should be enough."

Keno squeezed her hand tightly, shuffling closer to her. Robert the medic glanced at him, then looked to her.

"You might want to recall your pokémon. I don't need a nervous pokémon on top of a nervous trainer."

"He'll be fine," Shay said, a little too defensively. Roxanne cleared her throat and stepped forward. Shay looked to her expectantly.

"If you'd like, I can actually heal your Marshtomp up while they get this underway. But only if you'd be comfortable with the idea."

Keno stared at Shay, looking more openly nervous than her, and it was all the more telling in the way he gripped her arm.

"You'll be okay?" he asked her for the umpteenth time, and she hesitated this time. She took a breathe and nodded to him.

"I'll be okay. Roxanne will take care of you and you'll be back here before you know it. Can you do that for me? Go with her, and let the medics take care of this?" Shay motioned to the debris in her forehead and Keno dithered momentarily. He nodded to her after a moment's hesitation and turned to Roxanne.

"It's going to be okay, your trainer is in good hands. Keno, wasn't it? Come on, I think I have a few treats you'd like." Roxanne made a motion for Keno to follow her, and he did so, if reluctantly. She continued giving him little platitudes and affectations about his performance, but Shay could tell he wasn't paying any attention to her. He kept glancing over his shoulder, looking torn between listening to her and turning tail to return to her side. When he finally disappeared from sight, the medics moved in, asking her a litany of questions before suggesting they move to the bleachers.

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?"

The question has been asked of her so many times in the last hour, Shay was sure she'd see the words, written in subtitles, behind the lids of her eyes all night long when she finally crashed into bed and hear it in her dreams on top of it.

 _Might as well title it as my memoir one of these days. I can see it on the cover now: 'Are You Sure You're Okay?'_

The thought was so utterly absurd that Shay broke out into a fit of giggles, surely earning a few strange looks from anyone nearby. Keno was not as amused by her lack of answers.

"Shay, I'm serious here," he whined, tugging on her arm. "You just had a bunch of rocks pulled out of your face!"

"'M fine, Keno. I promise," she remarked, and wow, her tongue felt weird in her mouth. Not exactly _'I just visited the dentist and it's too fat for my mouth'_ weird, but more along the lines of _'what are even words'_ weird. She swirled it around behind her teeth and found herself suddenly focused on counting them all. She kept getting stuck on her crooked lower front ones and gave up, wishing her stupid wisdom teeth hadn't fucked her mouth up so bad.

 _This feels like that,_ she realized. _Waking up from the anesthesia and trying to remember how to people. Wow, this morphine is really…fucking me up._

"What's morphine?"

Oh, shit, had she said that out loud? Shay glanced at Keno, stopping dead in her tracks to do so. He stared back at her and she had to focus on his face, on his eyes, and it was hard. It was really, well and truly, hard to do that. She wanted to look away, to shuffle her feet, to fidget her hands, but she did him the courtesy of meeting his gaze. She could have dismissed him. She could have returned him to his pokéball and stumbled her way back to the Pokémon Center—or called a cab, let's be honest, she only made it this far away from the gym because of Keno.

But damn it all, he won that gym battle—their first gym battle, _together—and_ she wasn't about to sour that by being a dick to him.

 _Wait, did we even get that badge?_

The sudden horror of going through all of that, and not getting the Stone Badge struck her in that moment, before it ebbed away just as quickly as it had come. It was the same heart-stopping fear that had washed over her, many times, when she had been in boot camp or combat training and wondered where her rifle was, or when she finally got to the fleet and wondered where her CAC card was. It was that same heart-stopping fear that dissipated when she realized just where it all was, and the cool relieving balm of assurance helped soothed her nerves.

 _It doesn't matter right now. I just want to get back to the center, lay down, and take a nap and let Keno rest up. He_ earned _it._

Keno patted her cheek, his mouth stretching into a smile. "Thanks, Shay. You earned a nap and some, too."

She blinked dully at him, fleetingly shocked. When was he a mind-reader like Ambrose?

"You're talking out loud. Don't you realize that?" Keno paused then poked at her sling-pack. "Roxanne gave you the badge, but…I guess this morphine stuff made you forget? It's in there, in the badge box she gave you."

Shay patted at her sling-pack and felt the contours of something new inside—the badge box, just as Keno had said, was there. She was tempted to take it out and to stare at the badge, because that was the only way she could be sure it was real. She stopped herself, and resolved that in the safety of their room, they could look at it in peace and quiet. Keno grabbed her hand.

"We should get back now. Okay? Those medics told you that you need to get some rest and you should go to the human doctors and nurses tomorrow, just to follow-up with your injury."

"Sounds good," she said, once noting how strange her mouth and teeth and tongue all felt. Heavy and burdensome, and her head was buzzing and floaty. All she wanted and all she could think about once the thought struck her was how she wanted to collapse in bed and not move until tomorrow was nearly come and gone. It was a mantra that kept playing over and over in her head: going through the lobby, going up the elevator, hiking down the hallway to their room, getting inside, and collapsing into bed and curling up under the covers.

It was a delicious fantasy that made her feel sleepy and warm.

It was especially jolting and unfairly so when someone came barreling into her right out of nowhere, shoving her away, and onto the ground as they hurled themselves along the concrete sidewalk in their attempts to flee. She immediately blustered out a few choice curses and hurled them in the offender's direction, alternating between shaking her fist and hissing between clenched teeth as her head gave a dull, aching throb that lasted nearly a whole minute. It ebbed briefly, returned, and ebbed away again. The cyclic pattern continued for a while, and Keno was at her side, holding her arm tightly as he watched her, worry etched plainly across his face. He looked away, only when he noticed a commotion before she did.

A crowd further along the street were gathered in a cluster, with one voice breaking above the clattering of the others. It was a long, drawn out wail, like the dying bleats of a farm animal than a human. She looked at Keno questioningly, the question shared between them: _what had just happened and what was going on over there?_ She pushed herself up to her feet, slowly rocking on her heels, before the two of them made their way over, joining the cluster.

It was indeed a man at the nebulous center of bodies making the noises, and not a pokémon, as Shay had begun to suspect as they drew closer. He was rather nondescript, of average height with sandy-blonde hair and donning glasses, khaki trousers, a button-up collared shirt, and worn brown loafers that completed his look of "casual office worker". Very blue-collar in appearance. His face was streaked with tears, his glasses were cracked, and his face looking swollen and red and angry, and his nose looked as though it had been mashed into the pavement a few times to boot. Blood dribbled from both nostrils, and he had to keep tipping his head back just to keep it from dropping onto his shirt any more than it had already.

A few people were trying to console him, even as he wailed. Another few were off to the side, talking amongst themselves, and at least three others were on the phone, talking rapidly and concisely into them.

"What happened," Keno breathed quietly at Shay's side, looking aghast at the sight.

"I dunno," she said, but already a picture was forming in her head. The guy had been mugged, and rather violently at that, judging by the man's appearance. Someone had beaten his face—either with a weapon or their fists—and when he refused to give up the goods, he probably got his face bashed in even more.

"That guy who ran past us—the one who shoved you to the ground! I bet he's the guy who did all this!" Keno said, and Shay hesitated.

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions," she said, uncertain of whether her assessment was even right. For all they knew, the guy that had ran past had probably panicked when trouble came a-knocking.

 _But I thought…I thought I saw something…familiar._

Like blue and white stripes. A bandanna…a pirate-wannabe knockoff costume.

"You didn't see it, did you? It looked like the guy from the Petalburg Woods! That weird guy who tried to rob that man we met!"

 _Aw, crap, I thought my head was playing tricks on me. I really did see it, then, didn't I? Another Team fucking Aqua grunt? And it's the same fucking guy, isn't it?_

Another flare of pain roiled around her head, seizing her tight like a vice and gripped hard and fast, refusing to give up the ghost until nearly a full minute had passed. Keno grabbed her hand and squeezed it, asking her if she was all right. She gave a very minute nod, trying to power through the pain. Without opening her eyes, she fumbled with her sling-pack, gently pulling out the painkillers she had inside, and popped the top off, shaking out two pills and downing them with a drink of water from her canteen. She waited a few more seconds, then peeped her eyes open and inhaled deeply. Keno was watching her with that same, fretful stare; worry swam deeply in the amber-orange depths as he waited for her to answer.

"We…we're going to help, aren't we?" Keno finally queried, glancing over at the still-wailing man. His cries had died down considerably as the people around him began to help him to his feet, offering napkins or handkerchiefs to him, a few patting him consolingly on the shoulders. The few words Shay could make out behind his blubbering took a few tries to understand: his research had been stolen by that thug, the one who had just fled the scene. Perhaps it was the same bastard from Petalburg Woods, after all.

"Shay. Shay, we're going to help, aren't we?" Keno's voice broke through and she turned to face him once again, staring into his expectant face. She didn't answer, not right away. The longer she went without answering, however, made his face seem to crumble right before her.

"We…we have to help. Don't we? We can't just walk away. He needs our help."

"Keno…"

She reached for him and was thoroughly surprised and a little stung when he pushed her hand away, darting from reach.

"No, Shay! We _have_ to help! What's the point in being a trainer, being in a team together, in working so hard like we do, if we can't or won't do anything to help other people? So many have helped you—they helped us, _all of us_ —to get this far! The least we can do is to…to…what did the professor always say? To…"

"To pay it forward," Shay said, sighing heavily as her shoulders slumped forward in defeat. It was something that Professor Birch had been found of saying in the lab, wasn't it? Keno stared at her with that expectant and intense stare, waiting with all the patience he could muster. "Christ, Keno. You really know where to hit, don't you?"

"We should help, and you _know_ it, Shay. I know you're tired, but wouldn't you want someone to help you if something bad happened to you? Like it already has, but even more?" he stubbornly pressed. Shay glanced over her shoulder at the man blubbering quietly in the ring of folk around him. She could hear the faint cry of a police siren echoing in the distance and heralding closer. She turned to look at Keno once more.

"Goddamn, dude, you really know how to hit hard." Shay finally consented with a grudging nod of her head, wincing as another flare-up crawled across the innards of her skull, and especially when it began to carve itself a niche over her brow. Keno rushed to her side and grabbed her hand, squeezing it thankfully.

"If we hurry, we can catch up," he said enthusiastically.

"I doubt it, not if he's booking it like he's got fire on his feet," Shay drawled back.

Keno stared up at her, dumbfounded and confused.

"But…his feet weren't on fire."

She groaned. This was going to be a long night and all she wanted was to lay down and sleep the night away. Was that really so much to ask for?

* * *

It was dark.

It was dark and they were stumbling around the woods, looking for a man who didn't want to be found. There was only way for the thug to go, and that was east. A number of people on the streets of Rustboro had pointed his path out when asked, but the bemused looks on their faces as Keno and Shay followed perfectly illustrated just how Shay felt, even now.

If Shay was the only one who had any say whatsoever, she probably would have gone back to the Pokémon Center and washed her hands of the weird ordeal. It was easy for Keno to get all gung-ho about doing the right thing; he could be healed almost instantaneously through the modern mechanical miracles of this world. Shay had to heal up the old-fashioned way.

The sun had set long ago, while they were trekking the now-familiar path up to Route 116, where they had spent the last several weeks training in preparation for Roxanne's gym. All that seemed like ancient history, in light of the very long and trying day they've had so far. Even the gym battle with Roxanne seemed like a distant, hazy memory in lieu of their current predicament. Keno stuck close to Shay's side, and for a while, she would admit she had been annoyed with him.

The more she churned over those thoughts, however, and all venom she had been sucking on that she had wanted to spew right at him slowly soured and whiled away until nothing was left of it. Instead, she felt exhausted holding onto it all and felt it was easier, better, to just let go. There was no point in being angry with him. It wasn't his fault they were out there. He may have been the one to push for them to go, but he wasn't at fault.

It was that shithead pirate-wannabe thug's fault. Instead of being angry with Keno for pushing them to go after the jackass, she should be mad at the thieving jackass for being a thieving jackass in the first place. The _jackass_.

Keno was the only one willing to keep her honest and really, that was actually a good thing. If he hadn't, he probably would have resented her for slinking off and doing nothing, when they could have done something. She didn't want that. She didn't want to be controlling, forcing him to follow her orders with blatant disregards to what he or the others wanted. This wasn't the Marines. This wasn't a dictatorship. This was a team, just like he had said.

They had to work together, live together, make decisions together.

That was how she wanted it to work. That was the kind of leader she wanted to be.

This was as far removed from the Marines as can possibly be, sure, and she has known some pretty shitty Marines who had gotten a taste of power that a certain rank held and got off on it. They were the type of Marines, the type of leaders, who completely disregarded the morale, safety, or health and wellbeing of those underneath them and fucked them over, played fuck-fuck and get-back games, and more…all just because they could.

Shay vowed to never be like when she had climbed the ranks and has held that promise, for the betterment of her own troops. Even now, when she was so remotely isolated from the world she's grown into for over a decade, she wanted to hold onto that sliver of her old leadership roles with her new team.

She wasn't about to break that promise just because her team, her troops, just happened to live inside little plastic balls from time to time and could whoop her ass a hundred ways to Sunday if they chose to do so on a whim. If she couldn't show a damn good example of leadership to them all, then what good was she to them? She'd just be another asshole with the power to make them miserable just because she chose to. That was leadership Shay had promised herself she'd never fall into, and she was glad to have someone who was willing to call her out when she was edging toward that kind of territory.

Keno startled when Shay patted his head, fingers colliding against the fin and he swiveled on the spot, staring up at her with wide eyes.

"Shay? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, I just…I'm sorry. I know I didn't want to come out here at first, but…thank you."

"What're you thanking me for?" Keno remarked incredulously.

Shay smiled back wanly.

"For keeping me honest, Keno."

He stared up at her, blithe and quiet. His mouth tugged a little at the corners in that stiff yet endearing smile of his. He pulled her hand off his head and tugged her along, gentle and soft.

"We should keep going. He might try to climb that mountain."

"Mountain…oh. You mean the pass between here and…" Shay trailed off, wracking her brain. _The pass between Rustboro and Verdanturf…what was it again…the Rusturf Tunnel, that's it, isn't it?_

"Keno, that mountain pass wasn't completed."

The forest and the meadow clearings were overall empty and quiet. The usual signs of trainers rummaging about in the tall grass weren't present, and the quiet chirrups of the stirring nightlife around them wasn't as reassuring as Shay pretended it to be.

"How do you know it isn't?"

"It…just wasn't complete. I think they have a small sliver of wall blocking the way, and…"

What was the story again? How did it go? Shay was at a loss, and felt it slipping through her fingers like silky water. She groaned.

"I don't…remember. Something about…Whismur. And something else. I'm sorry, I can't think straight. My head…"

"Do we need to take a break?" Keno squeezed her hand and she squeezed it back reassuringly. She shook her head at his inquiry.

"It's not that, I'm fine. I just don't remember why the pass between Rustboro and Verdanturf wasn't completed." Her head was itching where they had put the stitches in, and the back of her skull was beginning to ache, slow and deliberate. It hurt trying to think. The drugs were beginning to fade.

"I'm sure you'll remember later. But if the pass isn't completed, then that thief has got nowhere to go, right?"

"Only if he's too stupid to realize the pass is blocked off, sure. And if he doesn't whizz on past us without us knowing it. This isn't exactly a chokepoint, Keno."

Keno whipped his head back and forth, only just realizing how much ground there was to cover. He hung his head with a soft groan.

"Oh. Oh, you're right. I didn't think about that!"

"But…but you know, if you are right, he might also be trying to climb the mountain. He might be that stupid." Shay backpedaled rapidly, leaning forward to hug the Marshtomp's head. Christ, he was just too fucking adorable, and she felt a little guilty in being the devil's advocate to his reasonings.

"That's mean, Shay." A beat passed and Keno chuckled. "You might be right, though. He doesn't seem all that bright, stealing from someone in broad daylight. He should have known someone would be on his tail."

"You would think, but that's the thing with people who ain't smart; they don't really think ahead. Not really."

The sky was painted with a wonderous tapestry of silvery stars spattered across the deep and dark of the night. In the far distant horizon, however, Shay could just barely make out the soft, orange glow of the resident volcano, Mount Chimney. The peak of the volcano itself was just barely discernable over the range of mountainous peaks that jutted between Route 116 and Verdanturf Town. If she recalled correctly, Mount Chimney had the tallest peak in all of Hoenn.

Route 116 itself was strangely empty. Shay was used to the sight of trainers crawling about the landscape, mostly young children and unruly preteens hellbent on challenging one another or her, and having a sporting good time with their teammates, their pokémon. Shay found the relative silence unnerving. It was a different kind of silence that wriggled itself under her skin the longer it went on. It was also rather telling; if anyone, desperate and dumb and heaving stolen goods, had gone through here, they would be notoriously easy to hear, never mind see, from a mile away.

The throbbing in her skull grew just a little more.

She and Keno pressed on, towards the hulking, shadowy smudge of the mountains that cut off the route so suddenly. It heralded closer and closer until it was barely a stone's throw away.

Suddenly, in the stark darkness of the shadow of the mountain made her wish she had a flashlight and felt idiotic for not having one in the first place.

 _This would be the part where I'd whip out my phone and just use the flashlight app on it…_

The x-transceiver Professor Birch had procured for her had plenty of nice advantages, sure. But a source of bright, eye-searing light was not one of them.

 _I'm buying a tiny flashlight to fit in my sling-pack the first chance I get,_ she thought. _And a regular sized one for my big pack to boot. And batteries for both._

The throbbing in her skull grew just a little more.

Keno pressed in closer to her. "I can't really see. It's getting really dark."

"We're right at the foot of the mountain. We have to find the tunnel entrance."

Wasn't there supposed to be a cabin nearby?

Shay squinted in the dark, straining to see any hint of artificial lights. Keno fumbled in the dark, pawing at her until he found her arm and traced it until he found her hand. He was quick to squeeze it tightly. Shay closed her eyes, trying to think. Even she could barely see where they were going.

It hit her like a brick wall and she felt along her belt, fingers swooping over the curves of each pokéball until she settled on Sela's. When she called out the little Poochyena, she couldn't make her out.

"Sela, use Fire Fang and light up the area, please."

Glowing embers sprang to life and the fire grew along the fangs of Sela's mouth, illuminating her like some kind of hellhound. Keno jumped beside her, and laughed nervously.

"That's kind of creepy."

Sela growled, but it wasn't with any malice. Her eyes flickered in the pale light.

"What's going on? Why aren't we at the Pokemon Center?" she asked, shifting her gaze between Shay and Keno.

"Long story short, we're after a shitty pirate that stole some company materials from someone."

Sela tilted her head. "Is this about that jerk in the forest?"

"Something like that," Keno added, with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

"Keno, I think you should take a break. We can take it from here."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm more than sure. You earned a good long rest. Sela and I can take it from here."

Keno hesitated, then nodded reluctantly in agreement. Shay recalled him and turned back to Sela.

"I'm not sure if it's the same guy. But he should be in a cave somewhere around here. It's home to a colony of Whismur, I think."

"I'll find it. Just follow me."

The throbbing in her skull grew just a little more.

Shay followed after Sela, traipsing along as quietly as her booted feet could allow. The night was still eerily quiet, and Sela noted it almost right off the bat.

"Your petty thief might have stirred things up, and not in a good way," she remarked with a low growl. Flames flickered along the edges of her mouth, but she managed to keep the light going, nice and strong. True to her word, Sela soon unveiled the creviced entrance of a cave, and sniffed at its threshold.

"Someone came in here not that long ago…I can hear them in there still." Sela reported, glancing back up at Shay. "We have the element of surprise. What do you want to do?"

"Take them down."

Sela's lips curled into a smile, peeling over her glinting fangs. "Sounds like a plan."

They crept into the dark embrace of the failed tunnel project. Sela slunk along, her belly low to the ground. Shay picked along as carefully and as quietly as her boots could allow her. Just on the fringes of the meager but welcome light of Sela's Fire Fang, Shay could see pale things—Whismurs—scampering about in the dark. They weren't a damned Xenomorph lurking in the darkness, they were tiny, blind, skittish creatures who just wanted to live in peace and quiet. Her heart was trying its damnedest to imitate a jackhammer, regardless of this reassurance.

Shortly after entering the cave, she could hear the multitude of colourful curses spitting out into the air. Light bounced around wildly ahead of them, just beyond the bend of a tunnel wall. A second voice was squawking indignantly at the first voice, cutting in on their diatribe every so often.

The closer they got, the clearer the words became.

"Stupid fucking bird—don't you understand? I'm _liberating_ you from that senile old man! Now stop beating your damned wings for one minute and _let me think_!"

"Let me go! Mister Briney needs me! You stupid human, let me go, I said!"

Sela's hackles began to bristle and shake, a low growl reverberating in her chest.

"I thought I smelled sea bird. Sounds like the idiot stole a pokémon on top of those company goods you mentioned."

Shay felt a chill race up her spine and her stomach began to slowly slink and slither down further along her abdomen at the thought. She stepped close to the tunnel bend and peered around it. The outline of the grunt could be made out, stark in contrast the bright of his light's beam. It swung along wildly, back and forth, against the stone wall standing between him and a clean getaway.

Sela's eyes remained glued on Shay's face, scrutinizing and waiting, as Shay turned back to her steadfast pokémon.

"What do we do? Now we have one more thing to worry about."

Shay sucked in a breath, teeth clenched, and fists doing much the same at her side. "We take down this clown, and we take back the goods, and return the pokémon to their rightful owner."

Sela held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. "Do we get the jump on them, or do we just waltz in and announce ourselves?"

Shay felt her lips pull back into a feral grin. "Let's give that bastard a surprise, huh?"

Without another word, Sela turned on her heels, the light from her maw extinguishing and left Shay in the darkness. The only light left was the wild, swinging beam of a flashlight just a mere few meters away. She leaned back around the bend and got the barest glimpse of Sela's little form skulking. Shay scuttled around, watching the shadowy figure behind the beam of light struggling to maintain a hold on the bird pokémon—a Wingull—in his other hand.

"I swear to Arceus, if you don't shut your trap, bird, I will snap your neck! Stop struggling—FUCK! FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK!"

Shay saw the flames flare up just as Sela leapt at the grunt, sinking her fangs into the back of his calf. The Wingull flopped to the ground with a cry of alarm and beat its awkward wings in an effort to get away. Shay came forward, scooping the bird up. The Wingull screamed in surprise and beat its thin wings, hitting her upside the head several times.

The throbbing in her skull grew just a little more.

"Stop, stop, stop it, we're here to help you, just stop, please! We want to get you back to your trainer!"

The beating wings halted, and a beak thrust itself against her cheek and beady black eyes stared widely at Shay. Feathers remained fluffed and puffed, body stiff and ready to fling into action, but the Wingull was still for the moment.

"You…you're not going to hurt me?"

"No, no I'm not! And yes, I can understand you, so let's get over that hurdle now, shall we, hmm?"

From the corner of her eye, she saw Sela hanging on for all she was worth to the screaming grunt.

The throbbing in her skull grew just a little more.

Shay squeezed her eyes shut, teeth grinding together, her next thoughts coming along like treacle.

"Sela," she called. The screams dropped to a few pained, pathetic whimpers. Shay opened her eyes, just in time to see Sela trotting over to her. The Team Aqua grunt was slumped against the wall, clutching his bleeding calf with one hand, the other shining the beam of his flashlight at his leg. The light swept over her briefly, momentarily blinding Shay.

"You!" he cried out with a pant. "You're that fucking meddling bitch from the forest!"

"Yep, that's me. The meddling bitch."

"What kind of bitch sics her pokémon on a human trainer without a battle, huh? A fucking coward?"

"What kind of coward steals an old man's pokémon and then threatens to kill that pokémon in the same day?"

The grunt hissed out another curse and struggled to his feet, bloodied hand fumbling for the single pokéball at his waist. "The kind that's going to take back that liberated pokémon from you, and beat your ass, that's who. Rouge, get out here and teach them a lesson!"

"Sela, use Fire Fang!"

Before the opposing pokémon had even materialized, Sela flung herself wholeheartedly into the fray, bashing into the other Poochyena. Rouge went flying, yelping indignantly as Sela slammed her flaming fangs into Rouge's flank. The acrid stench of burning fur and flesh filled the air. The fire began to spread, and Rouge screamed, high-pitched and awful. Shay's short-lived smile of victory fell away and her heart gave a painful lurch, while her stomach twisted and roiled. The Wingull in her arms curled up in Shay's arms, hiding her head under her wings with a soft whimper.

Shay opened her mouth to call off the attack, but a set of bony knuckles collided with her cheek, knocking her over and onto the rocky floor. Weight settled on top of her, and a barrage of punches began to lay into her, smashing into her face as hard and fast as they could hit her.

The throbbing in her skull grew and grew and grew until her entire head was nothing but a giant, throbbing ache attached to a body.

The Wingull struggled out of her arms, and screamed, wings beating in the air until they collided with the grunt. He yelled, and his barrage, mercifully, ended.

"Get off of her! Get off, get off, get off! She's taking me back to Mister Briney, you no-good crook!"

"SHAY!"

A clear train of thought was no longer a possibility. All there was for Shay was a pure and primal urge to act. She bucked at the weight pressing down on her, hands clawing to grab purchase of anything, and she dug her fingers in like fish hooks. With a wordless scream, she dislodged the grunt atop her, bending whatever she had clutched in her grips, fighting against the resistance held against her, snarling out a stream of low-growled curses without even realizing. She didn't know if she was bending an arm, a hand, or even a neck—all she knew was that it was eliciting screams of surprise and agony, and that was good enough for her.

"—son of a pox-riddled, bow-legged, shit heeled bitch! I will fucking tear you limb from fucking limb and then beat you to death with whatever I have left in my goddamned hands and then I'LL FUCKING BRING YOU BACK TO LIFE AND END YOU ALL OVER AGAIN, YOU LOWLY BOTTOM-FEEDING TROGLODYTE!"

Something bashed into her head—something heavy and thick and harder than bone—and it sent her sprawling back onto the ground. Stars flashed across the black of her vision as she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, a burst of bright light slipped over her eyes, blinding and brief. The desperate scuffle of a quick getaway barely registered to her. As soon as her head had hit the ground, she stayed there, the pain overwhelming her. The light faded. The darkness crept in.

The throbbing in her skull had grown to an almighty crescendo and all she wanted to do was curl up on the ground, keep her eyes squeezed shut, and not get up. Maybe not ever again.

The idea that she could cry came to her. Crying would make her head hurt even worse, though. She swallowed past the thick wall of her throat pressing in on itself, suppressing the urge to just sob.

Hot breath poured over her and the soft glow of embers bled through the thin lids of her eyes, and heat bore down on her skin. She peeped her eyes open, slow and careful, to see the outline of a toothy jaw inches from her.

"Shay? Are you okay?"

Shay squeezed her eyes shut, and let the seconds tick by, mentally trying to brace herself in getting up and moving again. It took longer than she would have liked, as she moved her fingers first, twitching and distant, then maneuvered her hands to slide up beside her, then pushed her arms underneath her to prop herself up.

"Mm-hmm." Shay managed, and grit her teeth at the unholy agony that rent through her at the simple hum of an answer. She squeezed her eyes shut, counted to ten, breathing slowly.

 _I can't walk back to Rustboro like this,_ she thought. _I need…I need…_

The thought trailed off and she fumbled for her pokéballs. She felt along the curved edges, trying to remember which one was Ambrose's. She had known just a few minutes ago, but the memory was slipping away like water through her fingers.

"Where's that Wingull?" Shay whispered, afraid to raise her voice any higher.

"I'm…I'm fine. I'm right here. You…you saved me." Another voice answered and Shay resisted the urge to whine. Too loud. Much too loud.

"What're you doing?" Sela inquired.

"Ambrose," Shay simply said. "Teleport."

"This one." A paw gently patted her waist, and one of the pokéballs fell from her waist. The loud chime and burst of energy and light filled the air. Shay squeezed her eyes shut once again, trying to ride out the wave of anguish.

Sela spoke softly, and she heard Ambrose's voice cut in, hushed yet clear.

Shay could just barely think.

 _Concussion. I need rest. No, wait. It's not good if I fall asleep. Wait, what do I need to do?_

A soft little paw on her hand pulled her from her barely-coherent thoughts. "Shay, we need to get back to Rustboro."

"Mm-hmm." She inhaled slowly. "Which one's Sela's pokéball, again?"

"Here." That was Ambrose, gently pressing something against her hand. She took it, peeping her eyes open once more. She aimed the pokéball at Sela's form. The Wingull was beside Ambrose. Sela's light disappeared as she was recalled, and Shay clumsily returned her pokéball back to her belt.

"I can't see!" The loud, abrasive squawk came from the spot where the Wingull came from. Shay clenched her jaw even harder, and then regretted it when her head gave another thump.

"Oh, how terrible for you," Ambrose's dry drawl replied back. The Wingull _harrumphed_ indignantly.

The throbbing in her skull had settled to a steady, agonizing throb.

"Can you teleport us back to Rustboro?"

"The Pokémon Center, sure." A beat. "I…don't know where the human hospital is, though."

"That's fine."

"Are you sure—?"

"Just do it."

* * *

She was wishing, just for a while, that she was blind like Ambrose. The piercing light of the Rustboro Pokémon Center was stabbing into her eyes, even past the thin and feeble shields of her eyelids. And judging from the shocked noises from nearby patrons sitting in the lobby, Shay was probably an ugly sight to behold.

She managed to pry her eyelids open, slowly and painfully, until she became accustomed to it all and slowly lurched forward, one step at a time, toward the front desk. The nurse manning the desk stared at her, eyes saucer-round and almost as wide, as Shay stumbled the last several steps and caught herself on the lip of the desk, holding onto it desperately for support. The Wingull shuffled uncertainly in her arms, trembling heavily. Ambrose scampered along beside Shay and grabbed hold of her pant leg and refused to let go.

"I…I have a pokémon."

"I can see that," the nurse replied, frowning.

"No…not mine. I got this Wingull back from a thief. He…he hurt it…her. I think. He was wringing her neck, up in that tunnel off Route 116."

The nurse's eyes narrowed and looked Shay up and down.

"Please. Just check on her. I want to get her back to her owner."

"Mister Briney!" The Wingull cried, and Shay winced, whimpering softly. The Wingull shrunk in on herself, whispering an apology. "I'm Peeko. Mister Briney's my trainer."

"Mis…Mister Briney, I think," Shay relayed the information to the nurse. The woman stared at her, eyes cold, lips thin, jaw clenched. She held her arms out for the Wingull.

"We'll take a look at Peeko. You can go sit over in one of the chairs or couches over there," the nurse said, her voice hard as stone.

Shay hesitated. "Please take care of her. She's been through enough."

"That's what we do here. We _take care_ of pokémon. Now, please go sit down."

Shay swayed on her feet, her burden momentarily lifted. Ambrose tugged at her pantleg.

"C'mon, you crazy lady. You need to sit down before you fall down."

She didn't need much urging to follow through with that advice. There was a strange hush all around her, but Shay was too tired and hurting too damned much to really notice. Ambrose was quiet as Shay slowly lowered herself down into a squashy armchair, all but slumping into the comfort of it.

"That nurse is going to call the police. I don't think she intends to help you," Ambrose muttered quietly. A quick jab in her leg startled her. Shay jerked her leg up and away. "And you shouldn't fall asleep."

She spotted Ambrose beside her leg and frowned down at him. "I'll be fine. Le' me 'lone."

Before he could reply, Shay popped his pokéball off her belt and recalled him, thankful for the blissful silence. But damn, it was still too bright in here. Her eyes slid closed, and she struggled to keep them open, jolting awake a few times, before slumping her head against the back of the chair and falling asleep.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Doing Fine

**Chapter Thirteen:  
Doing Fine**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes:_ Welcome to the new readers! I would love to hear feedback from y'all, if it can be spared! **

**This chapter was a bit easier to work through, as I didn't have to worry about rewriting it from scratch like the last chapter, haha! On another note, I am away in San Francisco for the Game Developer's Conference this week. I am super excited, being here with my family, and we're right across the street from both the beach and the zoo! If I do miss next week's update, my vacation/future work networking might play a part into that defection in schedule.  
**

 **Regardless, I am happy I managed to get this chapter out, and** **I do hope that y'all enjoy it, and as always, I love to hear from you guys, so don't be shy and stop on by in the reviews!**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

 **Badges Won : Stone Badge**

* * *

" _How are we doing?"  
_ " _How are '_ we _' doing? Funny you should put it quite that way, Jim. '_ We' _are doing fine."  
_ **-Captain James Kirk and Leonard "Bones" McCoy, "** _ **Star Trek III: The Search for Spock**_ **"**

* * *

Shay jerked awake at the sudden bark of something sounding off right in her ear, startling her so badly her heart began to triphammer away in her chest, beating wild and painful. She clutched at her chest, breathing hard, eyes wide and searching, the other hand balled into a fist. Old aches and pains bloomed into existence and throbbed in her core, reminding her she had sustained a rather serious head injury there earlier. It immediately began to throb to the tempo of her rapid heartbeat, and it was distracting, to say the least.

About six men, varying in clothing from typical police uniforms to street-clothes of work slacks and long-sleeved button-down shirts, stood in a ring around her. The closest towered over her, staring down as he regarded her with sharp, critical dark eyes set in a bronzed, handsome facefe bn. She couldn't tell if his eyes were a dark brown or black. There was no warmth or friendliness in those depths. It was as though she was trying to gaze into the innards of a pair of deep tunnels and trying to focus on his face was nearly impossible. It just kept swimming around in her vision, blurring in and out of focus. She closed her eyes, sucking in a sharp and long breath between clenched teeth.

"Hey! Wake up!"

A foot kicked hers, and the jolt of motion traveled up her leg, through her body, and lingered the longest as it made its way up to her skull.

"Wake up!"

"I'm awake, you nut fucker!" Shay hissed out between her still-clenched teeth. Her head immediately set to throbbing, as though to some unknown electronica or techno tune that she couldn't make out or hear. If she focused, she could probably even strain to guess it was to some _Italobrothers_. _Not the time or place and not exactly the beat I wanna think about. I want soft lullabies and soothing acoustic guitars and quiet folk music._ "I have a goddamn concussion, in case you're too blind and stupid to notice."

"Oh, lookit here, boys. We have ourselves a smart-ass thief."

That got her attention, and against all self-preservation instincts that were howling at her to not move, she struggled into a more upright position. The throbbing increased in tempo as she did and didn't settle until she did. The men around her stiffened in reaction, hands flying to their belts, where several pokéballs resided, and she noticed how oddly empty the center lobby was.

She slowly swiveled her head toward the front desk and found the nurse from earlier speaking with a uniformed officer. Her eyes flicked to Shay, meeting her gaze, and then she turned away from Shay bodily. Most likely giving a statement, Shay figured with a frown. _Bitches ruin everything._

She turned back to the ring of men around her, facing the man who had so rudely awoken and addressed her. Her shoulders hitched when he pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his backside.

"Ma'am, we're going to have to ask you to stand up and put your hands behind your back."

"Why?"

The man who had woken her up was staring her down with those cuffs in hand and barely batted an eye at her inquiry. His lips quirked, just barely, as though he was only just vaguely amused by this whole thing.

"We're placing you under arrest for the assault and battery of a trainer-owned pokémon, assault and battery of a trainer, pokémon endangerment, and of course, theft of a trainer-owned pokémon."

Shay stared at him, her mind screeching to a grinding and jarring halt. Her mouth popped open just a little bit, and slowly panned her gaze to look at the faces of the other men. They each had a hand placed on their waists, fingers swiveling over the smooth surfaces of their pokéballs, shoulders rigid, the skin tight around their eyes as they watched her every move. Waiting for her to make the wrong move, to say the wrong thing, anything.

The full gravitas of the situation came crashing down on her head and she wished she was more present, mentally, to handle this.

"I didn't steal a pokémon," she finally said, and as soon as the words came out of her mouth, a few of the uniformed and street-clothes officers exchanged a round of laughs and glances. The one who had addressed her snorted, stepping forward brusquely and grabbing hold of one of her wrists and yanking her up out of her seat. He was quick to twist her arm around her back and pin it there long enough to slap a cuff on her.

"Wait a minute, don't I get to give a statement before you start hauling me off?!" Shay struggled for only a moment, before doubling over when her head gave an almighty agonizing shred of tortuous pain, like hot nails being slammed into her skull from all directions at once. She barely noticed as she was being read her rights, everything beyond the pain was inconsequential, insignificant. She would have crumpled then and there if the officer holding her hadn't kept an iron-vice grip on her arm. He was quick to snatch up her other arm, wrenching it back to join the other and slipped the cuff on it as well. The metal dug into her wrists and her shoulders screamed at the forced position they were in.

"The nurse confirmed you stole a Wingull by the name of Peeko, registered to Angus Briney—"

"Confirmed I stole it, or confirmed that I brought Peeko in? A Team Aqua grunt stole her, ran off along Route 116, and the only reason I managed to catch the bastard was because the Rusturf Tunnel was incomplete!"

One of the men scoffed. "Right, a likely story. Use the local scapegoat to cover up your own crimes."

"PEEKO!"

All heads turned on a dime at the booming cry coming forth from the front of the Pokémon Center. The officers and what few patrons or personnel in the center all turned as one to the source, as though of a hive mind entity, to review the newcomer. An elderly man of average height and perhaps around sixty or seventy years of age stood at the threshold of the center, looking around wildly from one corner of the center to the other. He donned a long-sleeved sweater effectuated with little designs—some geometric, others that appeared to be naval—with a worn vest donned over that. His pants were just as worn and used, faded from years and salt. His shoes were much the same state of affairs, but he didn't look shabby. He had no hair atop his head, but he had plenty covering his cheeks and chin, giving him a full bushy silvery-white beard across his squat, heavily tanned face.

The old man came hurtling forward, moving at a much quicker pace than Shay would have thought for a person his age, and flung himself against the front desk. The officer standing beside the counter moved out of the way just in time to avoid getting bowled over by the man. A chagrined expression fleetingly passed over his face, but he was quick to compose himself. The nurse, in contrast, was completely unperturbed by the older man as he practically flung himself halfway over the front desk's counter, head swinging to and fro in desperate search for his beloved pokémon.

"Where is my Peeko? Is my Peeko all right?"

The accent that came hurtling out of the old man's mouth surprised Shay to no ends. She never would have expected a Scottish accent. Then she had to scold herself for focusing on such an unimportant and distracting detail that really had no pertinence to her current predicament.

"Yes, Mister Briney, your little Peeko is doing just fine! She's being checked over and should be out soon, so please, have some patience. The police are here to apprehend the thief, she's right over there, as you can see—"

The old man whirled, his eyes searching, combing the center lobby. They swept over Shay once, twice, and then landed on her the third go-round. Mister Briney leaned toward the counter.

"Are you telling me that you think that is the thief?" he cried to the nurse. The woman blanched, hesitated, nodded. There was a moment's pause. Then, "ARE YE OUT OF YER BLOODY MIND, WOMAN? A _MAN_ STOLE MY PRECIOUS PEEKO! NOT THAT SLIP OF A WEE GIRL!"

He suddenly whirled on the officer standing close to the front desk, jamming his index finger right in the man's face, teeth bared, face wrinkled into a snarl.

"Ye'd better point me out to yer bloody superior right now, or so help me, I'll be taking my fury out on yer hide!"

The officer in question was rather quick to point out the plainclothes officer holding Shay by the arm. The grip on said arm tightened as the elderly man whirled on his heel and marched right over to them. The others around them remained glued to their spots as the newcomer stopped short of Shay and the officer holding her upright.

The old man stared her down, his steel-grey gaze scanning her over once, then twice, before he turned his hawk-like gaze toward the officer.

"Release her."

"I'm…sorry?"

Mister Briney nodded toward Shay.

"I said, 'release her'. If ye bloody morons had taken my full statement instead of half-arsing yer jobs, ye'd know ye lot would be on the lookout for a man, not this…this! This wee lass with half her face bashed in! Dinnae any of ye even listen when I was giving my statement earlier this evening?"

There was smattering of mumbles and mutters from the others that Shay couldn't make heads or tails of from the others close to her. Even with her less-than-stellar hearing issues, the blows to her head earlier hadn't helped much either. On top of hot nails slowly inching their way deeper into her head, her ears were fucking ringing. Even her vision was reduced to a sliver in one eye and blurry in the other. She was going to look fantastically horrible tomorrow morning, she just knew it.

Mister Briney gazed thunderously at the officer gripping Shay's arm tightly in his meaty hand. When the offhanded mumbling side conversations had ceased at last, there was only the tense silence that stretched on between them all. Shay had to consciously fight to keep from fidgeting or even just passing out to break the monotony. She swayed on her feet, wanting nothing more than to just sit down again.

"Well? Are ye gon' to just stand there, staring at me? Or are ye gon' to uncuff the poor lass an' go look fer the real thief?"

"Mister Briney…with all due respect, she came into the center with Peeko beaten all to hell—"

"It's a bloody Pokémon Center! Where else is Peeko supposed to go if she's been hurt? A junkyard? Ooh, better yet, how about the cemetery at Mount Pyre?!" Mister Briney paused, taking a few moments to collect himself, breathing hard. He turned his sharp gaze on Shay and jerked a nod to her. "Lass, where did ye find my little Peeko at?"

Shay hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the officer, then back to Mister Briney. It took her addled brain to translate his words. He spoke perfectly fine enough that she could understand him; she was working delays at this point, and she wasn't sure if she was going to last much longer.

"In Rusturf Tunnel. I didn't know he stole your Wingull at the time. I recognized him from Petalburg Woods though. He's some kind of foot soldier for Team Aqua, and he was harassing a Devon Corporation scientist a few weeks back when I was passing through. I think he was doing the same to another worker from the company before hightailing it out of Rustboro earlier today." Shay paused, licking her lips and wincing, feeling how dry and cracked and fat they were. The touch of iron on the tip of her tongue told her that her lip had been split open and it must have only just dried recently.

"I was coming out of Roxanne's gym in the late afternoon when I saw him making a break for Route 116. You can check with her, I was the only one there this afternoon. He must have taken Peeko since I last saw him and when I caught up to him. He was trying to wring Peeko's neck and I caught him by surprise. It was dark, though, and he had the only flashlight. When I had my pokémon battling his, he snuck up on me and tried beating the shit out of me. I got him back but then he bashed me in the head with his flashlight and took off. He left Peeko and I used my Ralts to Teleport back here."

Shay shifted to glance over her shoulder and stared the officer still holding her up dead in the eye. "That's my fucking statement. You need anything else from me?"

He slid his dark gaze from her face over to Mister Briney's. Dithered for the longest time. Fished out his keys and uncuffed Shay, as slowly as he possibly could.

"We'll keep in touch." The officer said, nodding to Mister Briney. To her, he added, "Don't skip town. We'll be checking in with Gym Leader Roxanne about your whereabouts, and security cameras on the streets to confirm your story."

With a last nod, the officer twirled a finger in the air, motioning for the others to wrap it up. Without much further fanfare, most of the officers vacated the premises, with only one or two finishing taking statements. Shay wobbled on the spot and Mister Briney lunged forward, grasping her arm to help steady her.

"Oh, those bastards. Don't even bother to do their jobs right, they're all on edge thanks to these…what'd ye call them again? Team Aqua, or some such?"

Shay slid her eyes closed and nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Ach. _Them_. They've been cropping up more an' more lately, an' lemme tell ye, if I had been twenty years younger, I'd have given chase t' the thief myself. My body's not what it used t' be. Come, come, lassie. Let's have ye sittin' down now, afore ye fall over."

Shay didn't fight it, she just let him lead her back to her previous seat and she collapsed gratefully into the plush chair. She heard him sink down in the seat across from her.

"They didn't take yer pokémon, did they? The officers, I mean, not the thief."

She gave the tiniest shake of her head. "Mm-mm. No. That was probably on their to-do list."

"Good. If they left with yer team, I'd have a new reason t' hit someone. Not the first time I've crossed ugly paths with law enforcement, let me tell ye!" Mister Briney laughed, and as good-natured as it sounded, there was a strain in his voice, one that belied his anxiety. It was also rather loud, and it made her head hurt. Any other time, Shay probably would have laughed right alongside him.

A new voice cut in between them, and Shay peeped her eyes open to see a new nurse standing there, looking bedraggled and tired, but she had a relieved smile on her face.

"Mister Briney? Peeko's ready for you."

Mister Briney leapt to his feet.

"Is she all right?"

"Peeko is fine. She did have some minor bruising to her neck and wings, but we've taken care of all of that. She's doing much better now and is ready for you to take her home."

"Oh, thank the gods. Excuse me, lass. PEEKO! Peeko, I'm coming!"

Shay squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth as tightly as she dared, trying to wave the fresh new wave of needle-red hot pain that was rippling across her skull.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, do you need me to call an ambulance? You don't look so good."

"Is it going to be an ambulance or is it going to be a prowler full of cops?"

"I'm—I'm really sorry about all of that, ma'am. That was my colleague, she's not exactly the friendliest face we have on staff." A pause. "And it would be an ambulance. No police. I promise."

Shay hesitated, sliding her good eye open to peer at the woman. She was short, much like Shay, with a plump yet curvy figure. She wore white scrubs with red hearts and cartoony-looking Chanceys romping all about the white background. Her nametag read 'Bethany'. Shay slid her eye closed again.

"Is it going to cost me anything?"

"If you have insurance, it shouldn't. All ambulance rides are covered."

"…okay, then. Please."

* * *

The attending doctor in the ER looking over her charts was focusing on the MRI and CT results. Shay has spent more than half the night in the hospital. Most of the time was spent waiting for a late-night technician to get the MRI going. Other parts were done conducting a series of tests that Shay had already forgotten what they were meant for. Something to do with examining results for a concussion.

Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. Now that was a familiar concept she didn't miss from the military. Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait.

She didn't remember even half the time spent in the ER. Everything was getting fuzzier by the minute. Her head felt like it was in a vise, with pressure incrementally increasing, and the hotbed of nails digging into her skull weren't helping matters at all. When Shay had been getting wheeled out of the MRI room in the radiology department, she mentioned feeling dizzy and nauseous. It didn't alleviate itself as time wore on, and on top of the IV fluids and pain medication the doctor had prescribed shortly after her return, he had a cocktail of medications to combat the new symptoms thrown into the mix as well.

Now she could barely hear what was playing on the television playing the top corner of the hospital room, it all sounded distant and muffled. Even the EKG machine that beeped in time to her heartbeat wasn't as noticeably annoying. The ringing in her ears had more or less subsided, at the very least.

None of that mattered at all because all Shay wanted to do was sleep.

The doctor wouldn't let her. Not yet, anyway. There was a reason, but she couldn't recall.

"Relatively good news. You definitely have a concussion," he finally said to her, setting her chart aside. "No brain bleeds, thank goodness, but it's still early. I'll definitely want you to come back in a few days to get another scan of things, to make sure you're still in the clear. Concussions aren't to be taken lightly, and a bleed can complicate things even further. You've also some fractures along the right sphenoid foramen—that's right above your orbital socket there, right where your stitches are. You said that you got hit in the head with rock shrapnel at the Pokémon Gym earlier this afternoon, correct?"

Shay nodded. The doctor made a small noise in the back of his throat. Concern flitted across his face as he reabsorbed this information, lips pressing into a thin line.

"Okay, and the medical personnel on hand there took it out, and patched you up, I can see that. What about everything else? Walk me through that again."

Shay wanted to groan, scream, sputter out an exaggerated sigh, or perhaps an amalgamation of all three at once. Instead, she bit her tongue and ran through it all over again. The doctor was polite, and only interrupted once or twice to have her repeat some things, wrote them down in her chart, and went back to listening.

"Okay. Okay, I got it now. That explains some of the underlying injuries beneath all the mess. The fracturing was from the rock shrapnel, and it looks like another was from the injuries sustained when you tangled with this Team Aqua fellow. Alongside the fractures from the rock shrapnel, you've some other hairline fractures along the temporal and squamous sutures, that's alongside your head above your ears; it's probably why you've been hearing an annoying, continuous ringing since the injury….you're going to have a nasty shiner for a couple of weeks, but if you ice it when you can, it should reduce the swelling and alleviate some of the pain." The doctor paused. What was his name again? Shay knew he had introduced himself earlier, but for the life of her, she couldn't recall and was too embarrassed to ask now. She searched his coat for a nametag but couldn't see one.

It was something funny and familiar, too. Something that made her giggle like a loon when he had first introduced herself.

"You'll need to get your stitches redone, and you'll need some pain medication and a few other things to help ease things once you leave here."

He went on to explain some of the medications he'd be prescribing, and when he was done, asked if she understood or if she wanted him to explain anything else.

She hesitated. "I'm probably going to forget most of this," she sheepishly admitted. He laughed.

"It's okay. You're fine. The pharmacy will have paperwork that can give you further details on everything. I do want you to come in again and see your—oh. Oh, that's right. You said that you don't have a primary, that you're traveling for the League Challenge, that's right. That's okay. Just come back in to the ER in a few days. Don't leave town before you're seen again. I'll put it in your file for what I want done and checked for when you do, all right?"

Shay nodded mutely, barely listening.

"Do you have any other questions?"

"When can I sleep?"

The doctor chuckled.

"I think you're fine to go to sleep as soon as you're discharged. Just don't collapse right outside the ER doors, all right? You're staying at the Pokémon Center here in Rustboro, correct?"

Shay nodded again. That was good. She could sleep. No risks at all with sleeping. That was the only news she wanted to hear about.

"Okay. After we get your stitches redone and we have you discharged, I'll have the nurse call a cab for you, then."

She was barely listening after he told her she was fine to sleep. He wasn't gone long before the nurse came in, with everything needed entailing to stitching her back up. By the time the nurse was done, Shay's entire face felt deliciously numb and soothing. It almost made up for the entire evening's events. When that was all done, the nurse left for only a few minutes, came back and started the discharge process, unhooking the IV lines in the crook of Shay's arm and pressing cotton balls and band-aids to the site. The nurse said she'd be back soon with the papers she'd need to sign before she left. Shay found herself dozing in the bed, her head lolling and jerking her awake before she could fully fall asleep.

A scarce twenty minutes passed, and the door to her room opened once more, admitting the nurse back inside. She was rather surprised when she came bearing a brown paper bag full of medications prescribed for her alongside the discharge paperwork.

"I thought I'd have to go the pharmacy," Shay muttered in stark relief. One less thing to worry about. One less thing to do before she had to go to sleep.

"Yeah, Doctor Farnsworth said he wanted you to have everything before you left the hospital tonight instead of making you come back in the morning. You're definitely going to need these first thing when you wake up."

Shay blinked and stared blankly at the nurse, who was holding out a clipboard with discharge papers to her. She signed the paperwork, skimming over everything. The words swam before her eyes and she gave up trying to focus on it all at once. Then it hit her and she stared wide-eyed at the nurse.

"I'm sorry, but did you just say that the doctor's name was Farnsworth?"

The nurse paused. "Um, yes. Hubert Farnsworth."

Shay stared at her for nearly a full minute before bursting out into hysterical laughter.

* * *

Shay felt like hell. No, worse than hell. She felt like hell had gone through a whole new series of trials and tribulations to make it an even worse hell, and then that hell went through boot camp hell. Everything ached and howled and protested at even the tiniest of twinges she made. Light seared the thin skin of her eyelids. As much agony as it caused her, Shay managed to just barely twist her entire body over, away from the early morning sun peeking through her room's curtains. She whimpered, feeling the electric tingling ache grow into a symphony of anguish and despair. Her head was full of angry wasps and every jostle sent needle-hot pain throughout the entirety of her skull.

This was worse than when she had had hip surgery…twice, and on the same damned hip, no less. She had been bed-ridden both times and had to rely upon the duty at the barracks to stop by her room several times a day to check on her when everyone was at work. When everyone was back in the evenings and weekends, she had to rely on the goodwill of others to make sure she was still breathing and eating and able to go to the bathroom and shower and just _function_ before she could do it all on her own again.

Even her breast surgery had seemed laughably easy to endure in comparison.

This? This was worse. She would rather be bed-ridden than absolutely useless and unable to even string a coherent, focused thoughts together.

When she finally grew tired of hurting, Shay carefully and slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position, stifling all the whimpers and whines she wanted to exude. She eyed the half dozen orange bottles sitting on her bedside table. There they sat, innocuous and quiet, waiting for her. The words on the labels swam and blurred, but she finally managed to suss out what each one was for. Pain. Swelling. Nausea. Dizziness. Mostly pain, though.

She had to pause reading labels and squeezed her eyes shut, riding out the static and the squeezing pain in her head until it subsided to a dull roar. She downed the prescribed medication and laid back down. She dozed for about twenty minutes before realizing something.

It was quiet. So quiet, that she couldn't fathom why, and it was an aching silence that rubbed her the wrong way. She was used to noise—whether it was the hum of electricity or the quiet thrall of water in the pipes—but there was something missing. It took her another several minutes to realize just exactly what it was that was absent, and she very nearly threw up what little she had in her stomach—nothing but a cocktail of pills and water—when she lurched upwards with a heavy gasp and her heart beating like a battering ram against her ribcage. She waited until the nausea subsided before she moved again.

Shay just barely managed to resist the urge to flop back into the mattress and fumbled with her belt still attached to her pants from last night. The row of pokéballs attached gleamed dully in the early morning light. Shay hesitated, the pads of her fingers curled gently around Keno's pokéball.

Did she really want them to see her like this? Her face bruised black and blue, unable to even see out of one eye, her lip fat and broken, her cheek split open and angry and red. Shay had taken one look at herself in the mirror after coming back last night and had wanted nothing more than to hide under the covers. She imagined she didn't look any better, hours later, allowing the bruising to ferment and grow and swell to cartoonish proportions.

She closed her eyes, feeling a few tears eke out of her bruised eye.

I can't hide from them for forever, she thought miserably. Gently, she plucked Keno's pokéball off, calling upon the Marshtomp within. He blinked, bleary-eyed and wary, as he drank in his surroundings. Shay quickly cycled through the others, calling them all out and waiting until they all settled.

The hush returned, heavy and burdensome, but at least the space was no longer empty and uncomfortable. Keno was the first to react, shoving himself forward and pawing desperately at Shay as he stammered at her.

"What happened to you?! You were fine when we were outside the tunnel! Did that jerk do this to you? Where is he, did he get caught?!"

The words tumbled over themselves until they grew incoherent and rambling until Keno finally buried his face into her chest, arms grappled around her middle.

"How did this happen? You were okay, you just fine!"

Shay briefly stole a glance over the countenances of the others. Sela averted her gaze, ears pressed flush against her skull, tail tucking between her legs; Luna in contrast couldn't tear her little yellow eyes away from Shay's face, while her tail lashed angrily from side to side; Ambrose frowned deeply, tiny arms crossed smartly over his chest; Breela shivered and squeezed her eyes shut and was muttering something incoherent; Faye looked grimly between Shay and Keno, feathers puffing up.

"Keno," Faye called. When he didn't answer, she fluttered up onto the mattress beside Shay and gently poked his arm with her beak. Keno startled, lifting his head to stare at the little Taillow's serious stare. "Keno, I can't imagine you clinging to Shay is very comfortable for her. Maybe loosen your grip a bit?"

Keno immediately stammered out an apology and let go of his trainer, glaring hard in embarrassment at the ground and hands pressed tightly to his sides.

"Did you get him?"

"We did," Sela replied, and eyes turned to stare at her. "But he got away. We managed to recover the stolen pokémon that grunt had stolen."

This news startled Keno and he looked between the Poochyena and Shay.

"What stolen pokémon? We were after the stolen goods that jerk took!"

A pregnant pause settled in the air like dust, heavy and cloying. Keno did a double-take between Shay and Sela, looking more and more uncertain the longer nothing was said between any of them.

"…didn't we?"

"…oh, fuck me, I forgot all about that."

* * *

A gaggle of Whismur scattered in the wake of the sudden flurry of psychic energy that crackled in the air, seconds prior to a trainer and their little pokémon materialized into being in their home.

Shay stumbled unceremoniously, dropping to her knees and riding out the wave of nausea and dizziness roiling through her. A tiny pawed hand rested on her shoulder, staying there until she felt well enough to stand.

"You going to make it, or should I start writing your obituary?"

"You gonna say something nice at the eulogy if I kick the bucket?"

Ambrose grinned cheekily at Shay. "Only the nicest things you'd ever want me to say, which isn't much, to be honest. 'Here lies my beloved trainer. She was an idiot trying to do the right thing and died stupidly in the process.'"

Shay snorted then regretted it when it felt like a hot poker jammed itself right up her nostril and tried scrambling about in her brains. She waited for the red in her vision to ebb away.

"At least you're being honest."

Ambrose chuckled before sobering.

"We should hurry up. The residents of this place are not happy with us right now."

Shay nodded mutely. "I imagine not. Let's hurry and quit this place."

She quickly summoned Sela, and the Poochyena blinked against the murkiness surrounding her. She sniffed pointedly, snuffling loudly before light bloomed to life from her maw. Embers flickered brightly, beating back the darkness. Shay squinted, waiting for her vision to adjust. She brought Luna out as an afterthought. She needed eyes that could see in the dark far better than hers could.

Ambrose settled beside Shay while she turned to Sela and Luna.

"Let's sweep the area, try to do this quickly and—"

"Excuse me."

Shay paused at the soft voice. Luna and Sela turned to the source of it and Shay followed their gazes. A tiny, pale, squat body sat on the fringes of the light from Sela's Fire Fang, nervously fidgeting, as though getting ready to bolt at the smallest sign of provocation. It was a Whismur, she realized. Only Whismur resided in the Rusturf Tunnel. Thank goodness for that. She wasn't ready to be divebombed by hungry, blood-sucking Zubat quite yet.

The Whismur fidgeted some more, inching its way closer to them, hesitating to a stop, fidgeting some more, then inched a little closer once more.

"Um…excuse me?" The Whismur called to them a second time, its voice soft and shivery, like a soft breeze through leaves. "Are you going to leave soon?"

"We are," Shay said, keeping her voice soft. The Whismur flinched, surprised.

"You…you can understand me? Us? Pokémon, I mean?"

"Mm-hmm. Can we skip the whole 'that's great, you can understand us' spiel and skip to the 'I'm looking for something, I need help so I can leave sooner rather than later' part?"

Ambrose lightly smacked Shay's calf. She glanced down at him, mouth open to reprimand him, then closed it just as quickly, thinking better on it.

"Are you talking about that thing left here last night? The one from that human trespasser?"

If Whismur had noses, Shay was almost certain this one would be wrinkling its nose in mild disgust. The mere tone of voice insinuated as much.

"I'm going to take it off your hands and make sure nobody else comes snooping around looking for it, if that's what you mean."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise. I'll be the last face you guys ever see."

The Whismur, momentarily emboldened by this statement, shuffled closer. Luna bolted to her paws, back arching, the tip of her tail whipping back and forth in agitated little flurries. Sela's hackles bristled as the wild Whismur ventured nearer. Ambrose was the only one who seemed even remotely calm.

The shuffle, scrape, drag of something heavy heralding toward them startled Shay. Sela and Luna both whirled on the spot: Luna growling softly and Sela snarling. Ambrose shuffled between them. Luna cast him a sidelong glance.

"Relax. They're bringing the goods back to us."

Luna turned back and narrowed her eyes and stared off into the darkness. When the sharp arch of her back relaxed, Sela's hackles settled as well. Luna finally sat, looking more relaxed than she had moments before. Ambrose patted them both on the shoulders. Sela remained standing, at the ready. Ambrose turned his head to a quartet of Whismur that approached. Their ears flopped up and down as they waddled closer, dragging something between themselves. Shay crouched, holding her hands out. She realized what it was they were hauling together: it was a briefcase, silver, thick. It gleamed softly in the light of Sela's Fire Fang. She gently plucked it up, surprised at how light it felt. Something shifted inside, and it definitely had some weight to it, but it wasn't overtly heavy and cumbersome like she had been expecting.

She hefted it away in hand and the quartet of Whismur immediately scurried off, shivering and whispering as they went. The only one left behind was the Whismur who had first approached them. Shay nodded to the little pokémon, and then stood. Ambrose grabbed Shay's pant leg, while she quickly recalled Sela and Luna. The faint light vanished, and Shay could barely make out her surroundings. The Whismur stood off to the side from them, face upturned toward Shay.

"Don't come back, please."

She waved in the Whismur's direction, offering a faint and tired smile. "I'll try to keep that promise."

The darkness of Rusturf Tunnel faded away in a brilliant glow of psychic energy as Ambrose returned them back to their room in the Pokémon Center in Rustboro City.

Shay wasted no time at all in collapsing gently on the bed, dropping the case off to the side. Bright stars, residue of the light that had blinded her, still dazzled about her eyes, even when she slid her eyelids closed.

"Easy," Ambrose chided, frowning up at Shay. The curtain of hair over his sealed eyes shifted about, exposing them a little bit more to the world. He hummed softly, the frown remaining. He stepped closer to Shay and patted her knee. "You should probably rest. You don't feel that great."

"Yeah, I _don't_ feel all that great, Ambrose. How very observant of you." Shay retorted, laying on thick the sarcasm and annoyance. She was so damned lucky that the grunt bastard hadn't gone back and taken up the stolen goods or ran off with them again in the first place. Several more unsavoury results could have happened as a result, ones Shay felt her insides squirm and clench at the thought of.

"What observation? I can't see how crappy you probably _look._ I can sure as hell _feel_ it though."

She sighed heavily through her nostrils, and gently allowing herself to flop onto her back. Her head throbbed in protest and she winced.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I _do_ feel like crap. I _look_ like crap. I just want to curl up and di—"

"Don't."

The word cut sharp and sudden, like glass shards thrusting into unsuspecting flesh. Shay froze, the word on her lips. Her breath stilled in her chest, held there until it hurt, and she expelled it heavy and hard.

"Don't ever say things like that. Don't even joke." Ambrose said quietly. His hands clenched into tiny fists. "I've told you that quite a few humans come and go through our neck of the woods where we met. Do you remember that?"

Shay could vaguely recall the conversation had taken place, but the exact details were fuzzy. She nodded all the same, mumbling she remembered. The knowing smile that flitted across Ambrose's face was telling. It faded before it could settle.

"I avoided them because many of them felt…wrong. _Empty_. They let themselves drain out and they were just…shells, walking about. Some of them wanted to…" Ambrose faltered, his voice fading. "When you let yourself feel that way, it bleeds out into my kind. We take in those emotions and it wells up inside of us. It doesn't just stay with you. My mother warned me to stay away from humans, unless I chose someone that wouldn't let their emotional baggage become my own."

Shay chewed on that for a while, frowning as the words tumbled around in her head. She remembered the pokédex entry for Ralts, and how its little text box prattled off about their ability to feel a trainer's emotions. She hadn't realized it extended beyond to every person in their vicinity.

"That's kind of shitty," she said after a while in the quiet that stretched thin between them. Ambrose tilted his head up at her, waiting. She couldn't feel that now-familiar itch-tickle feeling that usually skittered across her skull whenever he was listening in. He was doing her a courtesy by listening to her rather than rooting around for her thoughts. Shay wanted to smile at that.

"I don't think a trainer should be forced to suppress how they feel if they decide to strike out with a Ralts. But I also don't want to make you feel the same emptiness I feel every time I'm having a downer day. Or week." Shay hesitated, trying to gather her words carefully. It took her a few moments longer than she liked. Everything kept spinning around in her head and she kept revising her words until she felt comfortable with them before she spoke. It was harder when her head was pounding, hard and dull. "I don't…always feel happy. I feel that especially now, given what happened, and I'm just barely keeping from dipping any lower by telling myself that it could have been worse. I know—actually…no. Scratch that. I _don't_ know how it feels for you, taking that in from me. I don't want to pretend I know, little dude."

Shay reached for Ambrose. She flinched back, unsure if he'd appreciate her scooping him up to hold him close. Slowly, she retracted her hand away from him and had to refrain from chewing on her lower lip. Instead she settled for the inside of her cheek, worrying away at it.

"I can't promise to be chipper and cheerful and all that rainbows and smiles bullshit. I got issues. I'm…not happy all the time. I don't…always like the whole 'living' thing. It's…it's hard. Sometimes, it feels like I've got the weight of the whole fucking world on my chest and that's enough to keep me in bed for a few extra minutes, but then it gets attacked by high-strung anxiety attacks about how I need to get up, because I'm not the only fucking one that's got shit to do. I've got you guys to take care of, and before all this, I had to go to work, and that-that wasn't fun either. Stressed out, overworked, worrying about a million and one things before I even step out my room, planning not just my day out but my whole week within the first five minutes of being awake. If I could, I'd probably stay in bed for days. "

Hot tears pricked at her eyes, and it made her entire face hurt even more; the tightness pulling at the skin around her cheeks and eyes, her throat pinching closed bit by bit, breath coming in short and quick bursts.

"I don't want you guys to worry. I'm sorry if my head isn't in the right space all the time and I just…I don't…know how to do this without losing it, sometimes. Things really could have gone _wrong_ yesterday and I'm just…using really, really bad humour to cover up, I guess."

She sniffed, trying to pull back the lid onto the can of emotional worms she'd just unleashed. Heat radiated off her face, she could feel it, and the pounding in her head that had subsided was beginning to make a comeback. Shay felt a few tears leak from her eyes in spite of the efforts she took to try and hold them back. She gingerly wiped them away, wincing when her face flared dully in protest.

"I'm sorry. I hate crying. I know I got lucky, and I shouldn't be upset, and I should be happy I didn't get my head completely bashed in—"

A hand curled around her fingers, squeezing them tightly enough to draw her attention, but not enough to hurt. Ambrose didn't look at her, because of course he couldn't—but he did tilt his head in her direction, smiling with a faint hint of little fangs poking out the corners of his mouth.

"You have a strange sense of humour. But I think I kind of understand. I didn't mean to throw you like that, I just…don't much like feeling that yawning emptiness. You…you dance on the edges, but you're not quite there. Not yet, anyways. I hope we can help keep you from going over into that abyss. I'd hate to lose you completely. I told you from day one, I don't want any other trainer but you. You're interesting. I want to see this to the end, whenever and wherever that is."

Shay felt any words she had left die on her tongue. She sat there on the mattress, with its blankets and sheets all crumpled and strewn about, with her clothes from the previous day laying in a crumpled heap on the floor at her feet, staring mutely at the little Ralts seated beside her. The room smelled like stale air and dried blood, dust motes and sour sweat. She had barely had enough energy to change her clothes last night—or rather, earlier that morning—before collapsing gratefully into bed. She had failed to call out everyone until she woke up. She had failed to remember the stupid stolen goods that idiot had been dragging around the city and had been stupid enough to get mugged in broad daylight. She had failed to capture that fucking jackass from Team Aqua to prove her innocence when she came back with Peeko in tow. She had very nearly gotten arrested and it would have been the second time in as little as six months, and if Mister Briney hadn't showed up when he had…

Christ, the only thing she did right was not get any of her pokémon killed and managed to rescue Peeko. Even that could have gone so very wrong—

Ambrose once more drafted Shay out of her thoughts with a very light squeeze of her fingers.

"You're overthinking things again.

There it was; that tickle-itch-scratch along the inside of her skull. Ambrose's smile broadened to an unabashed grin.

"We're fine. You're fine…relatively speaking. You saved that old man's pokémon. You got the goods back. You weren't arrested." He patted her hand. "Rest. Relax. You should also let the others out, so we can all go get something to eat."

Shay frowned. "I can come with you guys—"

"You can barely stand, let alone string together a coherent thought. You're starting to ramble and go off in tangents. You're in pain."

"I'm always in pain," she muttered miserably. Ambrose's smile faltered. Shay stood, wobbled until she stilled herself, finding balance on the balls of her feet. "And I can handle a little trip to the cafeteria, thanks very much."

She was actually beginning to feel slightly hungry herself. She needed something in her stomach besides crackers and jell-o—the only things the nurses could bring her late last night in the ER, and she didn't even eat all of it. Her nausea kept rearing its ugly head, tossing and turning her stomach to the point where she gave up trying to keep anything besides water down.

She needed food, and so did her team. It was a small trip. There and back again.

 _Not like I'm going on a Hobbit-sized adventure,_ she thought to herself. Ambrose slid to the ground, and ambled over toward the door.

"I don't know what a Hobbit is, but I'm sure you have a story behind it. Maybe focus on telling that while we all go get food?"

A distraction. That sounded like a good idea. Instead of focusing on how much everything fucking hurt, talking about something she liked might help distract Shay. She wasn't even all that mad he was picking up on her surface thoughts. She was just glad he was trying to help.

Shay fumbled with the pokéballs at her belt and released the rest of the team, one by one. Keno took one look at her before darting forward to cling to her and bury his face into her waist. Sela glanced around their surroundings, and after judging it safe, turned to Shay, waiting patiently. Luna took to the bed and curled on a mound of blankets, turning it into a nest. Breela huddled close beside Shay and Keno, occasionally tilting her body to peek up at Shay's face. Faye took her place on Shay's shoulder.

"Hey, guys. I know you're all probably hungry. Let's go get something to eat, huh? Oh, and I'm gonna tell y'all about Hobbits."

"What're Hobbits?" Keno mumbled against her before lifting his worrisome gaze up at her. He reluctantly released her, only to latch onto her hand as soon as he could. She squeezed his hand back, finding some comfort in his attentive, if slightly clingy, considerations. Shay stooped over to pick up Breela and tucked the Shroomish into the crook of her arm.

"Well, Hobbits live in holes in the ground. These holes aren't nasty or wet or dirty or barren and dry places. They're fully furnished, furbished, and refined for living and comfort…"

* * *

 ** _Additional Notes_ : A mixed bag of good and bad luck to chew on, especially when one hits the hallmark of chapter thirteen. I felt it appropriate for Shay, given her track record so far. I also hope that my portrayal of Mister Briney was well received; I do want to flesh him out a bit more in the coming chapters! Next on the plate will be getting everything where it needs to go, and the outro for Rustboro and the intro to Dewford! **

**I had fun times with this chapter and I'm glad I can post this up on a Sunday once more. I am going to try and keep to the schedule, especially the closer we get to summer! As always, I'd love to hear from you guys, so please feel free to stop by in the reviews and let me know what you think!**


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Meet and Greet

**Chapter Fourteen:  
Meet and Greet**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: Welcome to the new readers! I would love to hear feedback from y'all, if it can be spared! I'm glad to have y'all coming in, and I welcome the regulars as well!**

 **Also, yesterday was my birthday, so I'm giving you guys a gift! I know it's two days off from my usual Sunday updates but hey, I'm twenty-nine now—I can break from schedule for this one little thing!** **Oh, and yikes. I hit over 10k words for this chapter. I guess consider this a big gift?**

 **Current Team : Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty **

**Badges Won : Stone Badge**

* * *

" _What can I do for you, my dwarves?" [Bilbo] said.  
_ " _Kili at your service!" said the one. "And Fili!" added the other; and they both swept off their blue hoods and bowed.  
_ " _At yours and your family's!" replied Bilbo, remembering his manners this time.  
_ " _Dwalin and Balin here already, I see," said Kili. "Let us join the throng!"  
"Throng!" thought Mr. Baggins. "I don't like the sound of that. I really must sit down for a minute and collect my wits, and have a drink."  
_ **-"** _ **The Hobbit or There and Back Again**_ **" by J.R.R. Tolkien**

* * *

A familiar face swam in the modest sea of faces. Shay had only caught a glimpse of him at first, and dismissed him entirely, but then he came closer and Shay knew who it was.

Brendan.

He hovered on the edge of her vision, popping in and out of view as he slid through the cafeteria line, motioning to the woman behind the counter what he wanted from the steaming silver dishes beyond the Pyrex glass. Shay hesitated, heart fluttering in surprise. He hadn't noticed her.

But of course, he wouldn't. Not when she looked like she'd gone ten rounds in the ring with Mike fucking Tyson. She hasn't seen him in weeks. Not since right before they both had left the lab, staggered though they were.

She carefully and quietly excused herself from the booth, much to the befuddlement of her team, all except for Keno. He stared after Shay, a question on his lips, but the words died as soon as he spotted who Shay had a minute before. He was the only one who recognized Brendan on sight. She heard him filling in the rest of the team behind her as she wove around the tables, slipping past people and their pokémon. Brendan was at the register as she reached him, in the process of paying for his tray of breakfast foods. She tapped him on the shoulder and he startled, whipping his head back and forth, before looking down at her, and jerked in surprise a second time.

"Shay?! Is that you? What—what in the hell happened to you?"

"Oh, you know, I went into the ring instead of the team, decided to win the gym badge on my own merits." Shay grinned tiredly. "You should see the other team. Roxanne wasn't too pleased."

Brendan gaped at her, mouth open and hands going so slack, he nearly dropped his billfold and tray. He shook himself, and hurriedly paid for his meal, and stepped out of line when someone groused from behind them both.

"Oh, piss off, I'm saying hello to a friend, your tray isn't going anywhere." Shay growled at the impatient and haggard-looking man, who scowled right back. She flipped him off, because screw proprieties and manners. She felt like shit.

Brendan apologized over his shoulder as they stepped aside, casting her a reproachful stare as he turned back.

"Seriously, though, Shay. Funny as that first story sounds, I kind of doubt you fought any rock-types lately."

"Woooow," Shay said, and began clapping slowly. "You should be a detective or something, your sleuthing skills are off the charts."

Brendan gave a little bow to her, grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you, thank you. It's a side hobby, and for a time, I once aspired to be a smart-ass detective. If not in real life, than perhaps in a television sitcom."

"Like _Brooklyn 99_?" The words spilled from her before she could filter them and she blanched at her own stupidity. Brendan stared at her, taken aback and puzzled.

"Um…I don't know what that is, but I'm going to assume no?"

Shay quickly waved a dismissive hand at him and motioned for him to follow her. As they made their way to her booth, Brendan pressed on with his earlier inquires.

"Seriously though, Shay. What happened? Does your uncle know what happened? Crap, does my dad know at all?"

Well, shit. She hasn't thought about any of that. She had promised to call Norman after every match, and Professor Birch as well, too. She had been so wrapped in the euphoria of pain medication for her various injuries, the chase after the Team Aqua grunt, the close call arrest after returning to the Pokémon Center with Peeko, the hospital visit, the following recovery…

It really had slipped her mind. She had to squirrel away the mental reminder to give them both a call, as much as she didn't want to, so she may bring them to speed on the recent events that have occurred.

Shay slid back into her side of the booth when they reached it, and Brendan took the other side. He didn't seem to mind or bat an eye as Shay's team crowded around the both of them, returning to their dishes as though another person had not just come into their midst. It was par for the course with him. Brendan's eyes alit upon Keno as he gathered his surroundings, and he smiled at the Marshtomp sitting beside Shay.

"Hey, you took Mudkip from Dad's lab, nice! I was eyeing it for a while but chose a different pokémon after he said you had used it to save his ass a few weeks back. I figured it was the least I could do. Would have been a kind of dick move if I had." His smile was genuine as he flashed it her way, teeth bright and bared in a crescent. "Can you guess which one I took?"

Shay shrugged, but inside she was doing flips. Keno had been the only one that had been a constant in the entirety of her choice when she had taken him up as her partner. Professor Birch hadn't revealed what pokémon Brendan had taken, but since he hadn't taken Keno, there was only one logical choice.

Just like in the games, it had to be the only one with a typing strong against Mudkip's water typing.

"Treeko," she said smoothly, masking her smugness with dry disinterest, taking a sip from her mug of coffee. Brendan's smile, to her surprise, grew wider instead of dissipating.

"Actually, no. I didn't take Treeko. I was planning on it, and I almost did. I wanted to have an advantage over you, since I knew you were probably going to take Mudkip after I took my pick."

Shay stared at him, brows beetling together at his explanation. That was certainly a surprise. So that left only…

"So, you…you took Torchic instead?"

Brendan nodded. "The way I figured it, is this: I could take the type advantage, but why make it easy on myself? If I took a fire-type and trained hard with it, I could surpass you, even with a disadvantage. I bet my pokémon could take yours down, easy-peasy."

Well, if that wasn't a bold assertion, then Shay didn't know what was. She stared at him, incredulous, and judging by the wide grin that practically swallowed his face whole with just how big it was, Brendan knew it had thrown her completely off-kilter. She didn't like that dumb grin he flashed her, or that hungry, glittering gleam in his eye as he stared her down, waiting for her to accept his challenge.

It took her a good long thirty seconds to realize this.

"Ugh. Fine. If I get to wipe that stupid look off of your face, I'll battle you, just…let's eat first." Shay motioned vaguely to the spread around them, and she heard the soft murmurs of relief from her team. Luna especially gave a growl of approval as she dove back into her bowl with gusto. Keno squirmed in the booth seat beside Shay, glancing between Brendan and Shay with anxious energy. Shay glanced at him a few times, feeling her annoyance creeping up before she leaned over to him.

"What is it?"

"Maybe you should sit this out. You're still not…well, you know…"

She sighed, her agitation deflating all at once at the fretful tone of his voice. She wrapped an arm around him, pressing him flush to her.

"Relax. I'll be okay and so will you. Okay?"

Keno stared at her, concern still glimmering in his tiger-orange eyes, even as he inclined his head uncertainly at her. Brendan began to dig into his food as well, and Shay picked at hers, her appetite still not having made a full comeback. The most she'd done, before she had even seen Brendan, was guzzle down her coffee. It was the most she could stomach, even with the anti-nausea meds helping. Brendan seemed to notice her sparse pickings and frowned over his own mug. He set it down with a soft clink and a sigh.

"Seriously, though Shay…what the hell happened to you? You never did say."

"Team Aqua happened," she grunted back, the taste of coffee souring in her mouth at the thought. Brendan's eyes went wide, mouth pulling open into a small 'O' as he stared at her, incredulity painted across his face. Shay kept her eyes trained on a particular bent piece of the table's rim, where it bubbled upwards and disturbed the rest of the otherwise flatness of the surface. Her entire fucking face hurt like hell, but the medication was helping dull it down to a more tolerable level. She felt the eyes of her team sans Ambrose locked on her, frozen in time, even as the world kept on spinning.

Slowly, Shay told Brendan what had transpired the day before, haltingly at first but toward the end of it all, the words were flying out of her mouth, angry and heated and passion all wrapped up in every word. When she finished, the silence between them simmering and almost violent. Her hands were shaking, her breath stuttering in her chest as it caught in her throat. She clenched her fingers into fists in her lap under the table, holding on to the tension and releasing after every count of five.

Brendan said nothing, taking the time to draft up his words before opening his mouth.

"I…I'm so sorry, Shay. Really, I am. You're spunky, though. I got to hand it to you on that front. And you're pretty damned determined." Brendan offered her a small smile, but it was as fleeting as a summer's breeze. His expression sobered, growing serious as he studied her face. Shay had to fight to keep from fidgeting under his intense blue gaze. "But honestly…what you did was pretty dangerous and stupid. Why didn't you just wait for the authorities?"

"Di…did you not hear me earlier?" Shay blurted, her brow furrowing in puzzled exasperation. "That jackass was _strangling_ _Peeko_ by the time I caught up! If I hadn't gotten there in time, she'd be dead. By the time those incompetent assholes at the police department finally got off their lazy asses to go after that grunt, he would have _killed_ Peeko and dumped her body in the Rusturf Tunnel, and possibly found a way to get away scot-free with the goods he stole from Devon! Even Peeko's trainer said so himself _to the cops' faces_ : they _failed_ to take his report seriously and did it all half-assed. He told them a man took his pokémon, and they tried arresting me instead when I brought Peeko in to get help!"

Brendan threw up his hands, motioning for her to calm down with the white flag of his actions. Shay's head buzzed angrily like a nest of wasps, her eyes stinging from the rhythmic pounding as she settled in her seat, quietly wishing for the beating of her pulse would simmer down.

"Whoa, whoa. Okay, wow. I was not expecting that hard of a push-back response. I get it. You saw something bad happen, you reacted. Trust me, I get it," he said, letting out a sharp chuff of air past his lips. Beside the booth, she heard a soft snort from Sela and Luna alike. They regarded one another, and as though deciding as one, leapt into the booth, one at a time, to settle against or in Shay's lap. Faye shivered violently behind Shay's head, but it was a sound she had grown up with and knew it well: she was merely puffing up her feathers. Keno pressed in close to Shay's side, his broad hand reaching for hers and gripping tight.

Ambrose's familiar itch-shiver-scratch inside her skull crept through, brief but noticeable. He flashed her a toothy smile from across the table, where he sat beside Brendan quietly. Breela, sitting on the other side of Keno, shook herself, staring up at Shay past the craggy crest of her fungi-encrusted brow, her little black eyes beady and unblinking. The squat little Shroomish's lips pulled into a nervous yet supportive smile.

Brenden sighed, briefly taking off the now-familiar mop of a white hat, running his hand through his dark yet unkempt and thick hair. It stuck up in all directions, mussed by the presence of his hat, and he attempted to smooth it all down. He must have realized it was futile and tugged it back on, then let his hand plop back down on the tabletop.

"Crap. I…sorry. That's not what I…ahhhh. I didn't mean to make it sound like you shouldn't have stepped in to help. Far from it, Shay. I just meant…" Brenden let out another sigh, heavy and forlorn. His blue eyes seemed almost grey as he lowered his head, his gaze hooded and dark. He began picking at the remains of his morning meal. "I don't even know. I guess it's good you stepped in. Peeko's back home, it sounds like, happy and healthy. The goods were recovered, and I assume you've either already returned them or you're going to soon, right?"

Shay bobbed her head, gentle and small, mindful of the throbbing ache that arced through her skull and neck as she did. Her eyes watered, and she had to focus on the slow inhale-exhale of her breaths, but shortly, she felt it beginning to fade, faster than she anticipated. Ambrose's presence lingered, and slowly, she realized he was helping, the pain soothed under the sudden cooling balm of his presence. The smile on his white-furred face remained. "Yeah. I'm gonna return it later today. Might as well, before I forget. My head's been kind of…staticky, like it's on constant pins and needles, if that makes sense. Not quite all there, like everything's leaking out."

"Well, if the doc says you've got a concussion, that would make sense," he drawled back in agreement. "You should take it easy for a few days, just like he told you to, before you go back for another check."

Keno's hand squeezed hers in response, and she could see him staring at her in silent agreement.

"Ha. It looks like your Marshtomp's got the same idea for you." Brendan laughed, tipping his head in Keno's direction. "We can postpone our battle, if you'd like. I'm actually going to be staying in Rustboro for a few days myself, training up and doing research for my dad. I suggest you rest up, go to your follow-up, and get those goods back to Devon, before they come looking for them."

They scuttled out of the booth together, trays in hand, trailed after by Shay's team. Brendan shot their entirety a bemused expression as he paused to wait as they collected together.

"Why do you have your whole team out with you? Most you should have if you want company is, well, maybe your Marshtomp."

Shay felt Faye's claws digging into her shoulder as the little Taillow fluttered after her. She paused to stoop down to pick up Breela, tucking the small girl into her arms. Breela shivered in the crook of Shay's arm, humming contentedly.

"I like it when they're all out," she simply replied, feeling both emboldened by their presence and self-conscious by her answer. Brendan stared after her team, before alighting his gaze back to her and he shrugged.

"All right, I guess, it's your choice."

Brendan took the lead, his longer stride outpacing Shay's. She was in no hurry to quicken her steps after him and followed leisurely after him. He waited for her as she downed the last of her coffee before putting the mug on top of the collection basket of used dishes near the exit of the cafeteria and walked with her to the front of the Pokémon Center's lobby.

"So, I'm guessing you're planning on resting for the rest of the day?"

Shay wanted nothing more than to do just that. Her very bones ached, heavy and leaden, and her muscles were singing with fatigue, wanting to settle in the weightlessness of the mattress in her room. Instead, with a weary voice, she replied, "No. Unfortunately, I have some property to return that isn't mine, and like you said…I don't want Devon sending anyone after me, looking for their stuff. I'll go drop that off and then come back here."

"Ah. That is true, I did say that. Well, do you want me to walk you there? It's a little out of my way, but I don't mind all that much."

Brendan dithered on the spot, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he waited for her answer, appearing hopeful and expectant. Shay considered the proposition but shook her head in the end. She noticed that slight deflation in his face at her declining his offer.

"No, I think I got it. I'll see you later, though."

"Ah. Okay, I guess." He mulled over her answer, and then a light sparked up in his eyes, brightening them as thought a bolt of lightning had lit them up from within. "Great. Then how about we grab a bite to eat later? I can check up on you, make sure you're doing okay, and you can actually get something in your stomach. Don't think I didn't notice you picking at your food rather than eating it."

Shay flushed, feeling a mite embarrassed at his pointed observation. She also realized he was hovering quite close, watching her carefully, hands fidgeting at his sides.

"Fine. Fine. Just…" she sighed. "Can we get something other than cafeteria food?"

It reminded her too much of chow hall food, and it reminded her too much of all the heart burn that food always gave her. The coffee honestly was the only delectable that she could stomach.

Brendan considered her, bobbing his head a few times.

"That sounds fair. As much as I like a cheaper meal, it does leave a lot left to be desired," he replied with a silly smile as he cast a conspiratorial glance over his shoulder toward the front desk. "And between you and me, their oatmeal was pretty dang watery. Not enough oats!"

"I wouldn't know, I don't like oatmeal."

The thought of it made her stomach flip-flop, honestly. The texture, the taste, the smell—everything about it offended her, and the idea of having to shovel the slop into her mouth made her clench her jaw to keep from dry-heaving.

"Whaaat? That's nuts. You're crazy, lady!" Brendan belted out another laugh, looking positively tickled at Shay's admission. A smile alit her face in spite of her best efforts, and he pointed at her in faux-dramatic fashion.

"AHA! You can smile. You've been kind of grim most of the morning. Glad to see you haven't lost touch with your inner child."

He turned from her, popping a smart salute with two fingers over his shoulder at her. "I guess I'll see you later, Shay! Oh, right, wait—what's your room number? I'll swing by around dinnertime!"

Shay told him and he took it to heart before he practically skipped out of the lobby, a new pep in his step as he left. Shay watched him until he disappeared around the bend of the automatic doors.

* * *

The Devon Corporation's official building was a skyscraper, all elegant curves of glass and metal. It was nothing like the original art, from either the original Sapphire and Ruby games or the remakes. It stood out amongst the city's more conservative and orderly streets of brownstone, brick, and limestone townhouses that seemed to be the norm of Rustboro's architectural design. It was one of the few buildings, in fact, that broke the pattern, and they were liberally scattered and sprinkled across Rustboro.

She closed the back door of the taxi she had taken, and the cabbie watched her from beneath his cap, frowning as he rolled down a window to address her. "I ain't waiting for ya, lady. You're gonna have to find another ride when you're done here."

"That's fine," she replied, turning to give him a wave with her free hand. He shrugged, his job complete, and he pulled away from the curb when he was clear to rejoin the streets. A few business people were standing about in front of the Devon Corporation building, either talking and smoking with one another, or on the phone. She spotted a few people in lab coats as well, looking exhausted or relieved or enjoying the mid-morning warmth.

Shay made her way across the concrete entrance, climbing steps to make her way to the revolving entryway. The lobby was, surprisingly and very unlike the outer skin of the building, somewhat similar to what she recalled of the games: the stone flooring was made of marble, and every step that every person made echoed across the wide expanse. Pale cream and light chocolate marble were laid out smoothly the whole way, from wall to wall, gleaming and polished smooth as glass. Tucked away in corners, out of the main flow of foot traffic, Shay noticed tables of clear glass studded with tall stools; a small in-house coffee shop was lined up against the far back wall, with a moderately generous amount of people and their pokémon milling about, sipping from thermoses of all sorts. The smell of roasting coffee beans perfumed the air and settled Shay's nerves somewhat.

The centerpiece of the floor, however, was what caught Shay's eye the most. Standing between her at the door and the reception desk across the vast space opposite of Shay, was a vast collection of fossils imbedded beneath the treading feet of passersby. Fossilized shells and bones; petrified coral and wood and imprints of leaves and feathers; and the intricate tiny bones of fish and amphibians and birds. They were all laid bare and carefully, meticulously arranged, dark as a void despite the fluorescent lighting from both above them and from the mid-morning sunlight streaming through the glass bay windows. It was all so intricate and beautiful. If Shay had the time, she probably would have stayed just to trace her eyes across the landscape sitting behind glass below her.

Shay carefully tread forward, eyes drawn to the intricate curves and lines of every fossil, hungrily drinking in the details, her brow beetling together as she tried in vain to pull anything of familiarity out of their shapes like she had at Roxanne's gym the other day. Her grip tightened on the handle of the silver case as she padded her way along toward the reception desk. She felt eyes seeming to slowly but surely gravitate to her, some curious and dismissive, others lingering and heavy. A young woman—pretty and curvaceous with shining, sleek platinum blonde hair and donning a smartly pressed pantsuit and a flawless makeup job painting her face—sat behind the desk, manning its entirety with ease and decisiveness. A security guard sat on the far side of her, eyes drawn to what Shay could only assume was a series of monitor screens depicting security cameras.

Shay waited as the woman handled a few other visitors ahead of her, until she turned her sharp, vibrant blue gaze to Shay—bright and fevered with delight, like sunlight brightening tropical waters to crystal-clear clarity—and her plump red lips remained curved in a smile as she swiveled in her seat. Shay noticed her teeth were very bright, white, and straight.

"Hey there, how can I help you today?"

"Um," Shay said, feeling herself flub at the very last moment. "I-I…I uh, I have this. This was stolen. Not by me, I'm returning it. I took it back from the thief. The original thief, who took it from one of your, uh, scientist dudes. Employees. Whatever."

The woman's smile faltered, dropping away, as she watched Shay lift the silver case up for her to see.

"I didn't open it, if that helps. I don't know what's in here. I don't really want to know, actually. I just wanted to bring this back."

Shay noticed the security guard had turned to look at her, his gaze sharp and probing. She saw him lean across the desk, away from where she stood, and his head momentarily bobbed out of sight. The low murmuring buzz of the inner lobby grew louder and heavier to Shay's ears as the woman turned to the security guard, her thinly plucked brows beetling together quizzically as she waited, her lips pursing together.

Her blue gaze clouded, grew darker, as she flicked them to glance over at Shay, now fidgeting on the spot. A ball of ice began growing heavy and sharp in her chest while a shiver began creeping up from the base of her spine to the back of her skull.

 _Crap, crap, crap. Please don't tell me they're calling the cops again._

The panic threatened to claw its way out of her throat in a pathetic moan, but she managed to gulp it back down, hard and sharp like bone shards catching with every swallow. Her stomach slithered lower into her abdomen at the thought of crossing paths with law enforcement all over again, going through yet another dance of accusations hurled at her. She was damn near ready to drop the case and bolt, as she felt the ice spread across her body, numbing and deceptive, as it slipped past her limbs and into her digits. She wanted to run, but her body was a lead weight, too frozen to move. She wanted to leave as quickly as possible, true, but she managed to just barely stifle the panic that threatened to consume her completely.

Years of being glared down at by officers and higher ups alike were ingrained into her, so she stood her ground with jaw clenched and shoulders set.

Several times, the receptionist nodded, murmuring softly to the security guard, who had finally popped back up, a phone pressed to his ear. He would on occasion glance at her, nodding his head and the sharp "Yes, sir," she could just barely make out, before he hung up and stood. The receptionist turned back to Shay; her smile still damningly missing. The security guard stood, and she could hear the jangle of keys, and in an almost typical fashion, he had his hands resting on his belt. She noticed a series of pokéballs clinging to his belt, alongside the typical garb of a security guard.

He kept his distance from Shay, eyes drifting sharply to the silver case still in her grip and he motioned for her to come forward.

"Ma'am? Will you come with me?"

She couldn't feel her legs, let alone force them to move.

"I-I just want to return this; I don't want any trouble."

The security guard—whose nametag Shay could now read as "Thomas"—remained unmoved by her lame remark.

"You misunderstand. Please, follow me."

Without any further preamble or explanation, he motioned for her to follow once again. Her stomach all but dropped away, left behind right there in the middle of the lobby floor, as she somehow managed to lurch forward on sluggish feet after Thomas the security guard.

He led her through the lobby, across the smooth as glass marble stone flooring as it winked and gleamed merrily in the lights. It made Shay's head hurt all the more. It was too much, too bright. Deeper into the confines of the building they strode, toward a vestibule where a series of elevator doors were opening and closing. It was mostly empty, with only one or two people passing them by. Thomas led her to the first available one, motioning with a sweep of a hand for her to get in first. Her grip tightened around the case's handle again. She had the sudden urge to reach for her knife, to feel the comforting contours of it in order to settle her nerves. She fought the impulse, but knowing it was in her back pocket, within easy reach, was enough of a relief.

At least he hadn't patted her down. That was another thought that crossed her mind.

The doors slid shut after an eternity standing open, and the heady lift of the elevator rose quietly on its hydraulics. The silence between herself and the security guard was stagnant and awkward. He didn't offer any information, and she didn't ask, either. Molasses seemed to have gummed up her teeth and wired her jaw shut, and as much as she wanted to ask where he was taking her, she was starting to garner a mounting suspicion.

No one has seemed to have called the cops. Instead, she was being escorted to…well, she wanted to assume the top floor. Chances were, it was straight to the head honcho of the Devon Corporation, Mister Stone.

 _The Champion's dear old dad,_ Shay thought, and the thought made her mouth run dry and a sour taste build at the back of her throat. _And if this is following the pattern of the game narrative, and I do meet with Mister Stone, than he's going to ask I take a letter to Steven._

She clenched her jaw as her thoughts continued turning gears, slow and laborious, but unhindered, undaunted.

 _That means I can either do one of two things: tell that bastard off and make him quake in his damn boots because he'll know I'm gunning for his title, or I can play it cool, not say a word. Show up on his doorstep when I've got all eight badges and beat his ass like a rented mule._

Before she could continue to mull on the possibilities, the elevator came to a soft, humming halt and the doors opened with a quiet ping of arrival. Thomas motioned for her to step off first, and he followed.

A receptionist's receiving desk with a small waiting area sat before them, the floors made of dark gleaming marble laced with veins of gold. It wasn't the flawless flooring, as attractive as it was that caught Shay's eye. Once more, it was the fossils. The distinguishing and iconic frame of an Aerodactyl hung on wires suspended far above their heads. Its jaws were gaping open, showing off the razor-sharp fangs lining them, while its delicate wing bones were spread out, its tail curving elegantly behind it while its hind legs were braced beneath its body. It was, in a word, huge. Intimidating. It loomed over them, as though flesh would grow across its body once more and it would take to the skies like it once had.

It reminded her of the time she had gone to Quantico, and over the weekend, had hopped a train to Washington D.C. so that she could explore the museums at leisure. The Museum of Natural History had, of course, been a place of interest and she had found herself humbled, excited, and frozen in awe at the gargantuan sizes of prehistoric creatures.

She had found the Tyrannosaurus Rex especially awe-inspiring.

Once upon a time when she had been a child, she had wanted to be a paleontologist.

Then she realized, as she grew older, she wasn't smart enough. Not with the math, at any rate. Math was her worst enemy, the bane of her existence. Her mother, however, often begged to differ and quite often. All those tests done whilst growing up, all those times Shay had been taken out of class or over the summer breaks growing up to perform various academic testing. The results from those tests, her mother had told her, showed she rated the highest with mathematics.

Shay still wondered if any of them had been right, because she struggled with math one too many times, and even gave up the idea of attending any schools for paleontology.

Yet, standing beneath the daunting fossilized remains of the Aerodactyl, she found that quiet, whelming glee rising inside of her, the passion that has since simmered in her belly for years, reignite. She knew that the scientists of this world could revive ancient, fossilized remains of prehistoric creatures—a feat considered impossible in her world, and yet it still inspired a multitude of movie franchises and imaginations alike the globe over.

As interesting as the science of it all probably was, she felt a different passion growing inside her. Her fingers itched for a pen or pencil, a pad of paper, and hours on the leather couch beneath the ancient being to simply draw at her leisure.

Thomas the security guard snapped her out of her thoughtful reverie, bidding her to follow him toward the desk. The receptionist sitting opposite the series of leather loveseats and couches and coffee tables glanced between Shay and Thomas, quirking a dark brow at the both of them. Shay winced under her dark gaze, especially as her boots scuffed noisily across the marble stone beneath her feet. It filled the air around them, preternaturally loud.

Shay glanced at the frosted glass doors at the top of a small rise of stairs beyond this little lobby, noting that there were other fossils in the room—either behind glass display cases or mounted on stands—but none were as overwhelming or impressive as the Aerodactyl's massive frame hovering above them was.

Thomas exchanged a series of queries to the woman behind the receptionist's desk, his voice low and quiet. It sounded muffled to Shay's ears, and she didn't even bother to listen. Her eyes kept straying back upwards, studying the curves, inclines, dips, and points of the Aerodactyl. Thomas finally turned to her when he finished with the woman, and with another nod, led her up the frosted glass doors.

Shay's grip remained taut and white-knuckled around the handle of the case and it banged against her leg every other step. The case itself and its contents weren't that heavy, true, but she wouldn't be surprised if she gained yet another bruise from this venture to return these stolen goods. Thomas lingered at the door as he opened it, ushering Shay inside.

A long conference table, elegant and shining, occupied most of the room. The wood was rich and tawny-gold in colour, with a ring of adjustable office chairs looped around its sides. The flooring, unlike the rest of what Shay had already seen, was a mixture of marble, glass, and wood. The walls curved, bowing outward, and a more personable office desk followed the curve of the walls, with a series of screens, glowing with screensavers advertising the Devon Corporations several public assets, sat. Behind the persona desk, a series of shelves were built right into the wall, and it was simply stacked, from floor to ceiling, with tomes of all sizes, shapes, lengths. A series of display cases, once again showing off even more fossils, lined the wall.

Beyond the room, where sunlight freely filtered in, were a series of floor-to-ceiling bay windows with shades lifted and a set of glass double-doors. The doors currently stood open, allowing a lofty breeze to come in as well as show off a gleaming balcony. Shay suspected if she were to walk out onto that balcony, she'd be able to see all of Rustboro and beyond. It was a bird's eye view, if there ever was.

Shay wasn't alone in the room. A vaguely familiar scrawny man was sitting at the conference table, his back to her. Another man—tall with broad shoulders, dressed in a three-piece suit of dark blue, almost black, white hair, and an air of authority oozing from him—sat at the head of the table adjacent to the other.

The both of them swiveled in their seats, turning to stare as Shay entered the room, clutching the silver case in her white-knuckled grip. The white-haired gentleman smiled, eyes flicking from Shay to Thomas.

"Thank you, we'll take it from here, Thomas," he said in way of greeting and dismissal all at once. Thomas murmured an affirmative and took his leave, closing the frosted glass doors behind him. Shay dithered on the spot, waiting. The suit stood, turning his kindly smile on her and stood, walking toward her.

"Come in, come in, my dear. Please, sit."

Shay's legs felt stiff and heavy as she lurched forward. The man, whom she could only assume was Mister Stone, halted in his trek, a light frown of concern crossing his features as he studied her.

The other man—bespectacled, lanky, tall, and sporting quite the shiner himself, as well as a puffy, crooked nose—stared at her in a hopeful manner, practically vibrating with barely contained energy.

Slowly, she recalled why he was so familiar to her. This was the man with whom the Team Aqua grunt had tangled with and stolen the very goods in Shay's hands from.

As soon as she was within reach, Mister Stone clapped his hand gently on her shoulder, still assessing her with that hard frown on his face.

"My dear, I'm not sure how or why you did what you did, but I am very glad you have. I want to thank you for having come all this way to return that which was stolen. I'd heard from one of my employees of how they were accosted in the Petalburg Woods a few weeks ago by one of these…Team Aqua fellows. And now, we've had another employee attacked in an equally vicious manner, and yet against all odds, we've had our property recovered!"

"That was me, actually," Shay blurted, and when the older man stared at her, clearly puzzled, she awkwardly bumbled onwards, "I helped your guy in the woods, I mean. From that Team Aqua jackass."

That explanation took a few moments for him to puzzle out before appraisal washed over his face.

"Are you serious? You—you're the one who helped both my people out? Well now!"

Mister Stone beamed at her, his teeth perfect and straight and very white, like a shark's smile. A friendly shark, but still a shark, nonetheless. He was being perfectly civil and kind and endearing to her, but she had no doubt this man could turn ruthless when it came down to it. The very thought, as it crossed her mind, sent a shiver down her spine. She could barely muster a smile to return Mister Stone's broad beam as he motioned for her come toward the conference table and she took a seat opposite the bespectacled man.

"Ah, where are my manners? My name is Augustus Stone, and I am the President of Devon Corporation. And this is one of my leading scientists, Daniel Tanaka."

"Please, call me DJ." The man sitting opposite Shay smiled, awkward and quiet as he spoke. He gave her a relieved smile, but there was a twitchiness that she didn't fail to notice.

"Oh. Oh, sorry. Here. Your stuff. Um…I didn't look in it, if that's what you're worried about."

Shay threw the silver case up onto the table, and as she controlled its fall, she noticed that, just like the floor in the lobby, the table was not what it seemed to be: there were fossils on display in the middle, encased and sealed away from the world. She tore her roving gaze away and offered the silver case to DJ.

"Oh, no, no, no. I wouldn't have minded if you did. It's mostly just blueprints, paperwork, designs. Very technical. I doubt you'd understand most of it." DJ said, and rather dismissively as he took the case and popped open the latches, already lost in sifting through the contents. Shay shot him a perturbed and hurt look, but said nothing.

Mister Stone took his seat at the head of the table, looking at DJ intently, his silvery-blue eyes studious.

"Is everything as it should be, Daniel?"

"Yes. It appears to all be here. And the parts aren't even damaged." DJ dropped the case's cover back down, relieved. "It appears…oh. Oh, we never caught your name, have we?"

"Right. My name's Shay Kenway."

"Miss Kenway, you've done a rather enormous service in retrieving this when I failed to keep it safe the other day. Thank you very much," DJ inclined his head toward her, then hesitated, looking pained as he studied her face. "I'm sorry to have caused you any distress. Are all your injuries…?"

Shay resisted the urge to reach up and touch her puffy face. "I'm good. Yeah, no. I have a concussion and some fractures, but I'm—I'm good."

Mister Stone and DJ exchanged a look with one another; DJ was easier to read like an open book: Shay could see the shift between shock and guilt as they played off one another across the expanse of his face. Mister Stone, in comparison held his emotions in check. The older man leaned forward, hands steepling together as he leaned his chin on the backs of them, whilst his elbows rested on the table. He nodded to DJ.

"Daniel, you can go back to work, if you'd like. But, please—leave the case. I have a favour to ask of Miss Kenway."

DJ faltered, but he was quick to nod, and got up, quickly vacating the office at a shuffle. The frosted doors closed quietly in the wake of his departure. Mister Stone waited until they clicked shut and turned to Shay when they had.

"I truly am sorry for the trouble, Miss Kenway. I truly do owe you a debt. My people, they do have their eccentric studies and work. But this," he said, laying a hand upon the silver case. "It's small, but it's sorely needed elsewhere. Daniel was supposed to have this sent out to a client of ours in Slateport, but since he was waylaid by these…confounding terrorists, perhaps I should rethink how they reach their intended destination."

Shay breathed in deeply, holding it until the count of three. "You want me to deliver them to this client instead of one of your own people."

Mister Stone nodded in response. "Yes. I fear that if Team Aqua is watching my people, perhaps we should kick in our security, make sure any goods that leave this building be through secret couriers to prevent any further future thefts, and any goods we receive in are screened thoroughly. Who knows what those maniacs might try later on down the line, or who they might try to target?"

He shook himself, genuine sorrow drifting across his face like the drifting of falling leaves in the wind.

"I know that I ask a lot of you, Miss Kenway, but I can only assume that you are a League Challenger?"

"Yeah, but…how did you know?"

Mister Stone smiled. "I am a very powerful man, and I do have a number of friends in the Rustboro Police Department."

That cryptic answer took Shay a moment to decipher. She chuffed at him, leaning against the back of her seat.

"You knew I was coming."

Mister Stone uncoupled his fingers, spreading them in a motion of surrender. It was a damning enough admission.

"Of course, I did. Daniel reported the goods stolen not long after being accosted a few days earlier, and when the police came back with an update to the report, I told them to stand by on the matter when they came to mention you and your…involvement." Mister Stone offered her a paternal look, his gaze softening up as he watched her. Shay wasn't entirely sure if she should be alarmed or comforted by the singular notion. "I was also very interested when another one of my employees earlier this month came to me, beaten much the same way Daniel was, but with a similar story of how a young lady came to his aid in Petalburg Woods. When he gave a description that matched the same one as what the police offered, I had a substantially exceptional feeling about where this might eventually lead."

Mister Stone darted his eyes toward the silver case that now lay on the table, closed and still innocuous enough. He rested the palm of his hand atop the case. When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, his smile faded and Shay straightened in her seat, as though she were under a general's radar suddenly. And she's been in that position once before.

It was never a comfortable feeling, no matter how amicable a meeting between the two of them may be.

"I would have sent someone, however, if you chose to not return the rightful property of Devon Corporation. It would have been nothing personal, it's just—"

"—just good business," Shay finished for him, her mouth and throat a column of sandstone, nary a drop of moisture to be found. The phrase chilled her down to her bones, almost as though they had suddenly become dry ice. She was afraid to move, terrified that if she did she'd shatter her body or worse still, it'd spread all over and she'd become a statue, frozen solid in her seat.

Mister Stone took pause, assessing her with those silvery-blue eyes that held little warmth, even when he smiled at her.

"Yes. Good business. Speaking of, I don't plan on hoisting this request upon you without compensation."

He then laid out his payment plan to her: half now as an incentive to deliver the parts, and she'd receive the other half upon delivery, when confirmed by its recipient. To say the least, the amount he offered, in full when the job was completed, was…intimidating. It was certainly much more than what she'd expect the delivery would have cost utilizing normal methods.

"And who am I supposed to be meeting, exactly?"

Once more, she found the answer she was looking for, before he even spoke.

"The man you'll be looking for is Captain David Stern. He's a rather important figure in Slateport. He owns the shipping yard and runs the Oceanography Museum there and helped established the construction of the main cruise ship that travels between Slateport and Lilycove." There was a sense of pride Shay sensed as the man spoke. She found out why when he added, "He did, of course, utilize a number of Devon Corporation technology when putting in the finer details of his ships and while also performing his scientific duties as an oceanographer."

Ah, there it was. It wasn't the work Mister Stone was interested in, it was the amount of attention and press his tech would get for being utilized above all other brands. The more coverage and use his company's products got, the more opportunities there were for his company to make deals, garner more funding, and more freedom to push the boundaries of what they developed.

Mister Stone took her silence as a sign of awe and he chuckled.

"Yes, I know, it's quite impressive. His work has really changed the way scientists look at the ocean, the mapping of its topography and currents, as well as the study of the various ecosystems beyond our coastlines. Devon Corporation's technology are top notch and we wouldn't know half as much as we do without it." Mister Stone was beaming as he patted the silver case. "As you can see, this is a very important task I need done—and as I mentioned previously, I'd rather trust this to you for discretionary purposes rather than the usual delivery methods. If my people are being watched and targeted, then I'm sure my usual methods of delivery can be targeted as well. But a trainer delivering these to Captain Stern? Team Aqua won't expect it!"

"Why do you think they want these…parts?"

The man across from her frowned, his glittering mirth all but disappearing and his eyes darkened until they looked like chips of ice beset upon by an oncoming storm. A flash of helplessness skittered across his face—brief, but noticeable. Shay leaned forward, pressing against the hard corner of the table as she waited.

"I can't really say. Who knows what those crazy bastards want from me or my people. My tech, obviously, but…I can't say for what, but what I can guess…" Mister Stone sucked in a breath between his clenched teeth, a realization striking him. He shook himself, and whatever thoughts he had away. "I don't even want to fathom why. I'm just glad that these were recovered before they could be used for…whatever they planned on using it all for."

He waited, patience written across his face with a practiced poker face—neutral calm and stolid. Shay fretted internally at the decision weighing on her. If she accepted, she'd be further pushing a narrative that wasn't hers to begin with.

 _It should be May sitting here,_ she thought bitterly with a tinge of anger. For the umpteenth time, she wondered why she had been dragged to this world the way she had. Why any of the people who had been brought here, forced from their homes, their lives. She wondered where they were, what they were doing to get by. She wondered why it was that the Creation Trio were still warring with one another, and if they were still causing disruptions across Sinnoh.

All news feeds have gone uncomfortably dark on that matter. Instead, the newscasters preferred focusing on matters in Hoenn, with perhaps a few odds and ends stories in the other regions—all of them, except for Sinnoh.

She made a mental note to try and go digging for anything she could. The more she did find, the more she could prepare for when she could leave for Sinnoh.

Turning her mind back to the present, Shay looked Mister Stone in the eye and nodded to him, the way she would with any of her Staff NCOs, or her officers in charge. She'd do the job, because if she followed the narrative—which seemed to be rather unavoidable at this point, in her opinion—then Shay could move along with greater ease toward her final end goal.

The older man smiled at her, broad and bright, once again giving her the impression of a shark. All teeth and no humour. He was a man who didn't much like the word "no" being told to him.

"Wonderful," he said in obvious approval, clapping his hands together. Without further preamble, Mister Stone turned to the case once again, popping the latches and lifted something small wrapped in a cloth. It was knobby and irregular shaped, but what it was, Shay couldn't fathom. She took it, feeling its weight and was surprised at how light it was. She cradled it close, but lifted her head to see Mister Stone gathering papers together, shuffling them tightly. He handed these to her, and then lastly, a flash drive with a hard enamel casing. It was glossy black and small and had no markings on it whatsoever.

"I'll get you a fold for those papers—I told Daniel to put them in one. One moment, my dear…"

The older man stood, pushing his chair in as he did, and strode briskly off toward his desk. He rifled through a few drawers before coming back with an empty folder and helped her scuttle the papers into it. She carefully pulled her sling pack around and stored the parts and the flash drive away but couldn't fit the papers in—not without bending them in half.

Mister Stone appraised everything before giving her a final nod of approval, another smile alighting his face.

"Brilliant, my dear. Now, if I could have your information, I will have the money wired to your trainer account and…"

Shay went through the motions, smiling when appropriate and nodding as well. She was good at that. Years of practice at playing the part in previous units helped her play the part of compliance. She was a little ashamed to admit, the money was a tempting factor enough on why she had taken the job as well and it made her stomach burn at the conflict roiling inside her.

Having enough money to ensure the comfort of her team was hard enough now. This extra boost could help her maintain that for a while longer, so long as she didn't splurge on dumb shit like an idiot. _Everything I buy, I have to carry with me. That's more weight I have to maintain on my back and shoulders and hips, more weight I have to manage. The more weight I take on, the more likely I'll hurt myself._

But this first half of the job was paying her _more_ than she ever made in _six months_ alone at a sergeant's pay in the Marine Corps. She still had to make the other half. It was _insane_ , to say the least. It almost made her want to scream, if only to feel the catharsis and relief and reality of it all. Mister Stone _really_ didn't want any of his tech falling into the wrong hands.

 _No, no, no screaming. I'll make this headache even worse…_

She could already feel the painful tempo behind her eyes increasing, the pressure building up at the back of her neck and along the front of her skull. It kept building up as though it was threatening to push her eyeballs right out of their sockets, swollen and bruised flesh or no.

Mister Stone saw her to the door, offering to have a company car waiting for her by the time she made it downstairs. Shay considered it, chewing on the inside of her cheeks. Grudgingly, she relented. She didn't want to have to wait for a cab and then pay for it.

"Yes, please," she replied, her voice hoarse and tired. She was drained. This entire excursion was weighing on her shoulders, heavier than she had originally expected. She almost didn't want to deal with Brendan later on, but she'd suck it up. Shay hasn't seen him in weeks and didn't want to brush him off so abruptly and at the last minute.

 _Take some meds, take a nap when you get back. You'll be right as rain, or close enough to it._

Mister Stone walked her to the frosted glass doors, and she was just within inches of freedom when the man paused, a sort of eureka moment flitting across his features. He excused himself and skittered across the office, begging her to wait another moment.

"I have another request," he simply said in a huff as he trotted back over. He waved an envelope in one hand and thrust it to her when he was close enough. "Please. I need this to be delivered to Dewford Town—my son, Steven…"

"The Champion," Shay deadpanned.

Mister Stone cleared his throat, as though it helped to clear his thoughts as well. He straightened, puffing out his jacket and straightening it.

"Yes. My son is the Champion, but he had no help from me, no matter what the press might say. He won the Championship all on his own merit and grit. That boy is one stubborn SOB if I ever did see one." At this admission, he beamed, and there was more warmth in his voice than Shay heard previously. "I'm very proud of him."

Shay waited, and Mister Stone seemed to have finally shed the reveries going on through his head. He cleared his throat a second time, offering the envelope to her once more.

"For the same reason I can't trust the delivery of goods to Captain Stern through my usual shipping methods, I don't wish for these words to be seen by anyone else other than my son." Mister Stone gave pause, as though for effect and gravity. "Please. I _need_ this delivered to him. It's just as important as the parts needing to be given to Captain Stern."

Shay felt her jaw wire itself shut. She stared at the envelope, hoping to will it away, but her hand reached for it. She couldn't feel her arm moving up, her fingers curling to snatch the letter as it transferred into her grip. Her head bobbed in wordless admission of acceptance. Despite her earlier bravado with confronting the man, she felt her stomach withering away at the thought of coming face-to-face with Steven. The bastard couldn't even spare a few minutes to check on her, to make sure she and any other misplaced people such as herself were adjusting well. He had dumped the entirety of the task to Norman. So, of course, Shay disliked him on principle.

Mister Stone's face broke into relief, his shoulders sagging ever so briefly when she took the envelope, none the wiser to Shay's inner turmoil.

"Thank you. You really don't realize how much this means to me. I don't…" he trailed off, hesitating. "I don't often speak to him these days, we're both so very busy with our own lives. And I can't trust e-mails or phone calls at this time, I…"

He clacked his jaws shut, and shook his head, as though to disperse any further missives of doubt.

"It's merely better if this letter is delivered discretely."

Shay was already tucking the letter away, her movements automotive, mechanical.

"You said he's in Dewford?"

"Yes. I suspect that's your next stop on your League Challenge. It's the only other gym this side of Hoenn."

The way he phrased his words was not questioning; it was very matter-of-fact. He knew where she was going and expected her to follow that path. That meant he'd be keeping his eye on her, somehow. He wouldn't just allow her to wander willy-nilly. He expected her to get something done. Just like her old Lieutenant Colonel, the Commanding Officer of her last unit before all of… _this_. And what the CO wanted, the CO got.

That's how it was.

It didn't mean she'd have to like it.

 _Fine, I'll do all this shit, but I'm gonna complain the entire time,_ she thought grumpily, before having to bite back a giggle and a smile. It had unwittingly brought forth witty moments from the show _Archer_ to mind and now was not the appropriate time to be bursting into laughter over something nobody but her would get.

She wished more than anything she had brought her computer, so she could use it when she was in a town or city, in the privacy of her own room, and watch her shows. It brought a sense of relief and comfort to her, brought her closer back to home—or as close to home as she could possibly get—when she watched them.

 _Maybe I can have Norman send it to me,_ she thought wistfully, even as Mister Stone finally let her leave by opening the frosted glass door to his office and waving her amicably off. He called to his secretary to have a company car brought around downstairs and to deliver Shay to wherever she wished. When Shay stepped into the elevator after it arrived, she practically sagged against the wall, nearly dropping down to her butt to simply sit and relax.

Even when she had been sitting in the chair adjacent to Mister Stone, she had been a ball of tension, ready to spring if she had to. Being alone with men who had a lot of power did nothing to assuage her into believing she was in a kindly position, that she was even remotely worth being in the same room as them.

She wasn't sure how she'd feel about holding the mantle of Champion, but she'd have to deal with that when the time came. Right now, though…she just wanted to make it back to the Pokémon Center, let her team out, and crawl into bed and fall asleep to the white noise of the television until Brendan came to collect her later on.

This entire meeting, in the meantime, has completely drained her of her energy and her will to "people" any further for the next several hours.

* * *

 _ **Additional Notes**_ **: Lieutenant Colonels are a step below full blown Colonels. Please don't correlate the two ranks as being the same thing. They are not. However, Lt. Colonels still have a lot of sway in the world, as officers are wont to have. My last unit, we had a Lt. Colonel in charge full time, and he was pretty chill, but when push came to shove, wasn't afraid to throw his weight to get what he needed for Headquarters. Our Colonel, on the other hand, came in with the rest of the reservists and took charge in those moments. He was also a pretty chill guy, very knowledgeable, very boisterous and people friendly and worked well with joint training or glad-handing with other branches of service—whether they were our own country's or from others. I had a pretty decently good time working there, and at times, I do miss it.**

 **Then I remember all the bullshit I had to deal with, and my body just couldn't keep up. I had my second hip surgery just months before I got out. I miss the camaraderie, but not the dumb shit. Good thing I want to deal with that shit in the civilian world as either a movie or TV show animator or as a game dev! Yippee!**

 **Lastly, I have to say this: if you haven't seen Netflix's _Love Death + Robots_ yet, please do! A slight warning ahead of time: it is NOT SAFE FOR WORK! It's got all kinds of things not appropriate for the workplace, such as FEMALE-PRESENTING NIPPLES and RED NECK PENIS as well as GORE GALORE. The various animations, however, are _absolutely jaw-droppingly gorgeous_ in a majority of the episodes. Sorry, I just had to plug for the show, I can't get over the beauty of some of them, as well as the amazing narratives they managed to spin in such short amounts of time. Please, give it a try! **


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Resting Up

**Chapter Fifteen:  
** **Resting Up**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 **Notes: I spent the last few weeks doodling, sketching, and working on some serious character art projects, for any interested in viewing it on my Tumblr, _blue-skiesand-silverlinings_! Feel free to stop on by and check it out, and for anyone who has any inquiries directed at the characters—Keno or Sela or Shay or anyone else—the ask box is open! **

**With that aside, thank you to all the new readers who followed my page and this story! I'd love to hear feedback and how you're liking the story so far!**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

 **Badges Won** **: Stone Badge**

* * *

 _Filled with mingled cream and amber,  
_ _I will drain that glass again.  
_ _Such hilarious visions clamber  
_ _Through the chambers of my brain.  
_ _Quaintest thoughts—queerest fancies  
_ _Come to life and fade away;  
_ _What care I how time advances?  
_ _I am drinking ale today._  
 **-Edgar Allan Poe**

* * *

"Oh, come the fuck _on_ , dude!"

"What? What happened?"

"The fucking server won't fucking load! Jesus fucking Christ, I can't even log in to _Pokémon_ _Go_! I keep getting kicked off or given some kinda error code, telling me to 'try again later'. I just signed up and made my password, and now—can't even get on it! I want my fucking Squirtle!"

Sergeant Hawkins guffawed, and listened with rapt attention as her coworker continued ranting and raving about the newest and latest craze enveloping the Pokémon game-loving community worldwide: _Pokémon Go_.

Sergeant Decker was a tall, broad-shouldered sort of fellow, one who probably played football in high school. He had the build, the height, the weight, everything. If he had never joined the Marine Corps, he said that he'd probably have gone to college to try and break out professionally. Sergeant Hawkins could only speak for herself, and believed he probably would have made it, but she didn't really know the whole process and had to take Sergeant Decker's word for it.

At the moment, he was practically squeezing the life out of his iPhone, threatening to snap it in half with his thumb and index finger alone as he glared at the screen, his face purpling with barely contained rage. Most of the others in the room weren't having that issue, Sergeant Hawkins included. Everyone was involved in their own pokémon-catching shenanigans, some cursing the weak internet connection, whilst others would zoom out of the room in search of a Pidgey or Rattata or what-have-you. The break room ebbed and flowed with bodies, everyone having either already logged on or were trying to, such as in Sergeant Decker's case.

Sergeant Hawkins herself had already caught her first team member: a Charmander, whom she named Charlie. Every time she poked at its avatar, it would give an indignant little roar and scowl at the camera, tail flaring upwards briefly before its animation went back to cheerful idling.

Corporal Booth—skinny as a stick and knobby joints and knock-kneed with a bulging Adam's apple that bobbled whenever he spoke—sat at another break table across the way from Sergeant Hawkins. He suddenly leapt into the air, knocking his chair aside and whooped in triumph, drawing attention from all around the room to him, his Southern drawl just as prominent, if not more so, as his features. "Fuck yeah! Caught a Zubat!"

A series of groans chorused around the break room. It was small and squashed and room was a scarce thing on a Naval aircraft carrier. The reception was, however, rather decent in this part of the ship and it was chowtime, so they could dick around on their phones all they liked. Sergeant Hawkins could barely tear her eyes away from her own phone's screen, even as she shoveled some food into her mouth. It was chili for chow today, but it barely had any _oomph_ to its taste when she got it. She liked spicy food and rectified it with what she could get her hands on, but after _Pokémon Go_ started up, she barely noticed.

"I don't see it. Where's the fucking Zubat, Booth?"

"It was there, I swear."

"Bullshit!"

A smattering of separate conversations carried on, whether it was a Gunnery Sergeant or a Private First Class, or even a Lieutenant or a Captain—the only conversation going on at the moment was pokémon-related. It was surprising, however, to some of the younger members in the room, that an officer or Staff NCO would admit to showing interest in anything _Pokémon_ -related.

 _Pokémon_ was universal. People either hated it or people loved it.

At the moment, everyone seemed to love it. Besides the usual bitches, moans, and complaints Marines loved to indulge in, games were universal to them, _Pokémon_ quite possibly competing neck-in-neck with _Call of Duty_ or _Battlefield_.

"Gunny, Gunny, Gunny—what would be your dream team?"

The question drew Sergeant Hawkins' ear, and she twisted to find the source of it. Gunnery Sergeant Bay was a thin man, but he had a rather doughy face and a red kind of complexion to it, like he was perpetually sunburnt, even when he hasn't seen the sun for days. He was in charge of another part of Sergeant Hawkins' unit, but she consulted him enough times that she could now pick his face out in a crowd.

He turned to the voice that asked him the ephemeral question, his phone clutched between his long fingers.

"That's easy. I'm a Gen-Oner and I like the fighting-types, so I'd pick from there."

"Rah, Gunny!" someone, she couldn't see who, shouted out in agreement.

Gunny Bay chuckled. "I like Primeape and Machamp, Hitmonlee and Hitmonchan. That'd be my dream team."

"That's like, four pokémon. What about the other two spots?"

"Uh…if I had to go with two more and from some other generation? Makuhita, for sure and…Lucario." Gunny Bay grinned again, looking proud of his choices. "I like dogs, too. Got one back home, waiting for me with the wife and kids. Lucario fits a bill I hadn't been expecting."

That conversation turned into many splitting apart, most of them revolving around what team would be "the dream team". The team that you would, hypothetically, battle an entire circuit of gyms leaders, Elite Four, and grand Champion to come out on top with?

When the question was posed to Sergeant Hawkins, she found the words dying on her lips.

"Any pokémon?" she pressed to the hungry faces staring back at her. Fervent nods replied to her inquiry. "Not just a team built by region or type?" Another series of nods. "Does it include Legendaries or Mystical?"

"Duh," someone snorted.

"Just six?"

" _Duh_ ," someone said again, impatient and amused, as though she were being incredibly thick for even asking, when it was apparently obvious to everyone but her.

Now she felt very put on the spot. She's thought on the matter, often enough. She couldn't just narrow it down to six spots. She had soft spots for the big, kaiju-esque pokémon like Garchomp or Feraligatr or Noivern; the dragons or dragon-like pokémon such as Charizard or Lugia or Tyrantrum; the dog-like pokémon such Arcanine or Houndoom or Suicune; the foxes such as Ninetails or Eevee or Zoroark…

It was hard boiling it down to just _six_. Impossible, even. She'd have a main team, a backup team, a backup team to that backup team, and if she was lucky, it'd just be all that. It was difficult to mash all of that into a singular response—one that any of the guys staring her down would fully understand. So, she shrugged her shoulders. She told them, "Charizard, Lugia, Garchomp, Tyrantrum, Feraligatr, Arcanine."

They left her alone after that, moving on to others, or turning back to their phones in a vain attempt to either catching pokémon or to access the server for _Pokémon Go_. Sergeant Hawkins found that she'd been kicked off herself, suddenly. She'd have to log back on, and she'd be hard pressed to wriggle her way back on, if it was hard enough for the others as it was to do so.

Her thoughts churned as she downed the rest of her lunch. Her answer hadn't been the full scope of who she'd pick on a dream team, if she could have access to and had choice pick of any and all pokémon laid out like a spread to her.

But it was a small start, in her mind.

* * *

Shay stared at the blank canvas of lined paper, fresh and crisp, the pages smooth and untouched by ink or charcoal, crayon or marker. The television set was playing softly, every inch along her skull was throbbing dully, and despite having taken another pain pill—as prescribed on the bottle, spaced out in a timely manner, and chased with an acetaminophen-based generic over-the-counter medication (something similar to Tylenol, but Shay couldn't recall the actual brand name) because addiction was not a fucking joke—she wasn't tired. So instead, she turned to something that would occupy her attention more readily than the rather cheesy action movie playing in rampant fashion across the screen.

Her team was enamoured with the current film playing on the screen, especially when the pokémon came out, stealing the thunder right out from under their human co-stars. Even serious little Faye and Sela appeared to be enjoying themselves.

Shay began writing.

Began detailing all that she remembered from the original _Ruby_ and _Sapphire_ games—she had never owned _Emerald_ from back in the day, strangely enough—and noted the newer additions to the _Alpha Sapphire_ and _Omega Ruby_ games as well. Or, at least what she could recall from them, anyway. She tried to remember everything she could, considering she didn't have her games with her, and hoped she was doing the recollection justice.

It felt strange, listing the narrative of the game out in ink before her when she seemed to be living it. The idea or writing it out itself hadn't occurred to her before this, and thinking back on it, she probably should have done it much sooner. The ache in her body, and especially her head, dulled to a manageable level as she scribbled furiously. She tried to recall as many details about Hoenn as she could—even if she forgot names, she knew who they were, what they did, how the interacted with the player character…

She itemized everything that's happened so far, racking her brain to drain it of every detail and how it correlated with what's to come. There were minor differences, of course; elements of the plot that were inexorably changed or altered in some way. They were miniscule in comparison to the majority of how things have played out so far.

For example: she hadn't had a trainer battle with Brendan yet, not once; the area where Mister Briney lived was no longer a singular, lonely cottage just south of the Petalburg Woods, it was an entire district of homes, moorings, and shopping strips along the dockyard; and there hadn't been a battle between herself and Wally yet either, strangely enough.

Norman had put a halt to that before Wally could even finish asking.

"You're not ready for it," he had told Wally, kind yet firm and final despite Wally's pleading protests, before sending the young man off home. Shortly after that, Norman had seen her off as well, and that had been that.

What should have been May, or hell, even Brendan—the latter of whom was still alive—was now Shay, playing out the events as the player character would have. This place, this world…she theorized it was probably an alternate timeline to the original storyline she was used to. Not for the first time, and perhaps not the last, she wondered how this all existed, came together, worked.

But did this world have something to do with the weather anomalies from back home? Did the Creation Trio, in their violent war with one another…did they somehow bring about the calamitous weather that was plaguing her world? And if people were being displaced into this world, then did that mean people—and even pokémon—were being brought into hers?

So many questions, and she was no closer to any answers. All she could do was theorize, postulate.

Shay would pause often and check on her team every once in a while, paying attention to whatever was on television alongside them, even ordered some food up to the room for lunch so that they all didn't go hungry. She barely touched her food as she finished writing what she could for the time being, and laid down on the bed, falling into a half-sleep. She was barely aware of the room around her, but she could hear the murmur of voices and the droning of the television—although to her half-awake brain, it all sounded the same, to be fair. It was surprisingly soothing white noise she allowed herself to snooze to.

It was only when Keno was shaking her awake, gentle as he did so, when she startled awake, breathing hard and heavy, like she'd been running for miles on end. He skittered back, hands held up in surrender, tiger-orange eyes wide and shocked at her reaction.

"It's…it's Brendan at the door, I think. He's here."

She swung her gaze around, still trying to shake the fatigue from her head, as she stumbled gracelessly off the bed and toward the door. Her heart finally slowed, and she managed to take a few breathes without panting as she gripped the door handle. Brendan was indeed behind the door, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever. He started to smile, relieved that she had answered—or perhaps that she had indeed given him the right room number instead of a false one—but it faded once he laid eyes on her.

"Jeez," he breathed out, trying and failing to hide the incredulity of his tone. "You look like shit, Shay."

"Thanks," she muttered back, leaning on the doorjamb. "I was hoping I was pulling off the "runny shit" look because I feel like one."

He huffed a laugh in spite of himself, before tilting his head a bit to the side, glancing into her room. It was dark, save for the screen of her television. The team was no longer focused on whatever was playing on it; they were all staring back at him.

"So, I guess you had a good day, doing nothing? Well, almost nothing, right?"

Shay grunted, swiping a hand across the back of her head. It was tender and throbbed, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut until it all faded. She opened them back up to look at Brendan.

"Yeah. Pretty much." She cleared her throat, eyes still bleary and tired. "I returned the case to the people over at Devon. They were pretty happy about that."

"I expect they would be. That's good to hear." Brendan replied, pausing politely before pressing on. "So, do you need a little time to clean yourself up or…?"

Shay just barely managed to contain the strangled groan building in her chest from spilling out. She pushed the door open with her socked foot and turned on her heel. "C'mon, you can wait ten minutes for me to get ready."

Brendan took faltering steps as he followed inside, hesitation written so plainly on his face as he slowly closed the door. Shay glanced at the clock and cursed under her breath. She'd been sleeping longer than she'd realized. Well, to be fair, she had been dozing, but the principle was still the same.

She noticed that the team had taken note of the new arrival. Luna whipped her tail in agitated little circles, casting her yellow eyes on Shay and quietly groused, "Why is he here? He couldn't wait for us downstairs?"

Sela was quick to reprimand her, to which Luna offered a soft, annoyed growl in return.

"Your Skitty doesn't sound too happy. Is she okay?" Brendan remarked aloud, glancing at Shay as she retreated into the bathroom to change from her sweatpants into her cargo pants.

 _Need to do laundry in the next day or so_ , she thought absentmindedly.

"She's fine, probably not happy with more people in the room, though," she called to Brendan from behind the closed door as she slipped her pants back on. The material was durable, comfortable, and breathed well in all climates—especially the temperate region of Hoenn. However, it was still somewhat stiff from newness and would take more time to break in. She threw her night shirt off as well, gritting her teeth as she clipped her bra on, and slipped on the same tank top she had gotten with Norman their first weekend together—the Zoroark emblazoned across the front still had a wickedly mischievous gleam in its eye, promising all sorts of mayhem. It had been the last one in her size.

It gave her some form of energy back, as she stared at the dark fox in the mirror and smoothed the tank top out. She brushed her fingers through her mussed-up hair, chestnut-dark tresses shot through with traces of red-gold threads in the light of the bathroom. When it was an agreeable sort of tame, she stepped out, snapping the light off and found Brendan still standing in the room, awkward as can be. He alternated between glancing at the television screen, a smile playing on his face, and then looking at the pairs of eyes staring up at him.

"They haven't looked away since I walked in. Are they okay?"

"They're fine. Guys, stop staring. It's just Brendan."

One by one, they reluctantly turned away. Faye was the last to do so.

"They weren't like this at breakfast."

"We were in public. This is…kind of private. I don't exactly bring people into the room."

"What, never? Not even for a quick little fling?" Brendan teased, and Shay rolled her eyes as she crossed the room to plop down on the bed, pushing her feet into her boots. She began lacing them up, noting how close Luna pressed against her side, practically sliding into her lap. She crooned softly, warm and soothing.

"Yeah, because I want them watching if I decide to screw someone. That really sets a mood."

"It sets _some_ kind of mood," Brendan snickered. Shay finished lacing up her boots and reached over and smacked him on the arm. Luna leapt off of her lap and she heard a soft chuckle arise from the little pink cat.

"Ah, ah! Okay, truce! I give! I'm sorry!" he yelped, and began rubbing at his arm in exaggerated motions, grinning broadly. "Gosh, so violent. I think you're compensating for something."

"Yes, I'm short, so therefore I'm angry. The correlation is astounding, isn't it?"

He laughed, appearing more relaxed than moments before. "Yes, that must be it. Short equals angry. I got it now." Brendan jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the door. "You ready?"

Shay breathed in slow and deep, turning to her team. "You guys ready?"

There was a chorus of agreements sent her way. The television winked off, and Ambrose tossed the remote across the bed before slipping down off the bed. The others stretched and did the same, coming to her side. She glanced back at Brendan. "They're good."

"Okay, then. I think the place I picked out is really good. Hope you like Kalosian!"

* * *

It was French, in Shay's mind. The Kalosian food was French to her.

Growing up, her grandmother on her stepfather's side would occasionally treat her, her younger brother, and her mother to French cuisine for brunch.

Shay couldn't recall what she liked to get, even if she tried. Her mother, on the other hand, always loved the French onion soup, without the bread. It was the one thing Shay could remember, out of everything from those mornings. Her mother loved French onion soup.

"So that the bread doesn't soak up all the soup. The broth is the best part!"

The thought of her mother made her throat threaten to pinch itself shut and Shay had fought to keep it open, to stop the threat of tears from building in the corners of her eyes. She couldn't handle crying, not when her head was still tender and hurt almost all the time, not when her eye was still black and blue and so very swollen and sensitive.

She'd pay for it tenfold later on.

 _You'll see her again,_ she kept telling herself. _Stick to the plan. You'll see her again._

It didn't make her heart ache for her mother any less. It didn't stop her from wishing she was ten years old again, crawling under the heavy blanket in her mother's bed early on a Saturday morning and snuggling with her. Her mother hadn't always been the most understanding person in the world. But she had tried her damnedest to support Shay growing up, feeding her with books and homemade meals and trips to the zoo or the aquarium or even the movies when they could afford it. She had tried, and always said to Shay, "I only want you to be happy," while she'd been growing up. Shay wondered what her mother was doing right now and then regretted it, the worst possibilities overwhelming her, and she had to take a long draft of her water to try and clear her head.

Shay tried to not think of any of that, of the memories spent out and about with her mother, as she skimmed through the menu. She tried and failed not to correct 'Kalos' to 'French' when the words 'onion soup' were paired together on the menu. Shay hated onion soup, but a part of her was tempted to order it, if only to feel that small connection with her mother once again, even at the expense of her taste buds.

She flipped to the back and skimmed through the drinks, and when the waiter came around, she ordered the sweetest white wine they had before diving her nose back into the menu. Her eyes skimmed over the words, but she wasn't really reading any of it. The letters blurred together, as though they were forming some foreign language, one she was trying in vain to decipher.

"Are…are you okay?"

Shay sucked in a breath between her clenched teeth, glancing over her menu. Her jaw ached from gritting it so tightly. She had to force it open to relieve the tension.

"I'm…fine. Just tired."

"You know, you didn't have to come out with me, if you're still not feeling great. I would understand if you wanted to cancel."

"I'm fine," she asserted more forcefully, dropping her gaze to try and decipher the menu. She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. "I needed to get out, and more than once in one day. I've been cooped up the last day and a half."

Brendan was largely silent as he took in her answer. The restaurant was small, but it was boasting enough of a crowd that belied its popularity. It seemed Hoenn was soaking up the diverse range of restaurants from different regions, and business was booming as a result. She found it a curious yet welcome detail that was sorely lacking in the original games. The closest to a human-centric restaurant she could pull from the top of her head was that Subway-esque sandwich place in New Mauville. Yet, even that place was saturated with _something_ pokémon-related, and that was…battling. Battling to earn your seat and keep it, or you'd risk losing not only your place at a table, but also your meal.

It would definitely have to be noted in her little book back at the room. (A note that would have an add-in about how _annoying_ that would be, especially if you were starving after missing a meal or two and wanted nothing more than to eat undisturbed, but refusing a battle was considered incredibly rude, no matter what region one was in.)

Brendan made a small, startled noise at the back of his throat, and fumbled with something out of Shay's line of sight. A spray of light lit up and a soft peeping noise erupted from beneath the table. A moment later, a tuft of pale orange and goldenrod feathers popped into view first and then a fluffy little bird face followed suite. Amber brown eyes blinked into the lights of the restaurant, head bopping every few seconds. They paused to assess Brendan and they lingered the longest on Shay.

"Hey, Sienna, you remember Shay, don't you?"

Sienna twisted her head to look back at Brendan, and she squeaked out with an enthusiastic nod, "Of course I do! She worked at the lab for a little while ago!"

But to Brendan, Shay wondered what he heard. Brendan beamed, turning back to Shay.

"You can let out your pokémon too, but…I would suggest just one. Having a full team might be a bit much." His smile turned sheepish. "We can get food for the rest of our teams to go, so don't worry about them going hungry!"

Relief flooded her at the reassurance and glanced at the pedestals that the waiter had brought out for both of them. Sienna sat upon one, the other was empty and waiting. Shay, upon having seen them in various places since she's come to Hoenn, and having quietly observed without asking since, she realized a long while ago what they were for: pokémon. For any who wanted to dine with their companions of agreeable inside-sized proportions, they were readily available. Whether they used pedestals, bird stands, chairs, or cushions of some sort, they were readily available at a trainer's request.

Shay's fingers drifted across the expanse of each pokéball at her belt. They were all in the same order, all neat and in a line. She knew who was where. She had to. She couldn't afford to fuck up.

She plucked a pokéball up, the plastic smooth and warm to the touch. When she flicked her wrist to snap it open, and out popped the light that formed a little being into existence, Brendan's eyes spread wide in surprise—and perhaps even a smidgeon of disappointment.

"Oh," he said, breathing out as his voice dropped. "I thought…you aren't going to let our your Marshtomp?"

Shay reached over and helped Ambrose up, and he settled upon the pedestal comfortably, hands reaching out to feel for the table. He pulled himself up to it, resting his arms on the flat surface as he offered a toothy grin in Brendan's direction, then Sienna, and lastly Shay.

"No. Just Ambrose."

"' _Just Ambrose'_? Wow, that's cold," the little Ralts chortled. Shay just barely managed to stifle herself from bursting out laughing. Brendan narrowed his eyes as he leaned in and looked at Ambrose, perplexity screwing up his face in a kind of adorable way. The moment didn't last for very long.

"Tell him to take a picture, it'll last longer. I can practically feel his breath on my cheek," Ambrose said, leaning away.

"Holy—is your Ralts _blind_?" Brendan hissed, gaze rounding on to Shay. There was abject horror written plainly across his face as he stared at her, mouth agape and eyes round.

Shay flicked a quick glance towards Ambrose, who sat calmly at her side, head tilted just enough to let the seafoam-green fur to shift back and reveal one of his eyes—or where they would be, where the flap of thin skin that covered his orbital sockets laid. His toothy smile didn't abate when Brendan looked at him again, and bald surprise lanced through the dismay Brendan was openly expressing. Brendan scrubbed it all from his face as he looked back at Shay, still holding a wretchedly disturbed expression on his visage.

"Shay—Shay, you can't make a blind pokémon fight in battles, it's just…not right. Legally, I mean…it's—there's nothing against it, but…but morally? It's wrong. It's just—it's just _wrong_."

Ambrose's smile faltered, just the slightest bit. Shay saw it dip, his preening stuttering briefly. He kept his sightless face turned toward Brendan, not seeing, but feeling him out.

Shay jumped when Ambrose's tiny paw reached out and wrapped around her pinkie finger and squeezed it. A jolt of encouragement rushed into her at the singular motion, and his smugness turned sweet as Ambrose tilted his head in her direction. She met Brendan's gaze, holding it steady even when all she wanted to do was look away and fumble with her hands in awkward silence.

"I know he's blind. And he wants to battle—"

"—but you can't _make_ it battle, Shay, it might not be illegal, but it sure as hell isn't _right_!"

" _Him_." Shay spat back, tension flaring up her spine, riding along the curve of her shoulders as she sat stiffly in her seat. Brendan's mouth clacked shut, sharp and loud, silence shrouding the yawning space between them. Sienna shivered, her feathers puffing up violently. She began to nervously preen herself as the quietness ensued. Shay's heart hammered against the back of her ribcage, hard and angry as it beat away. Anger burned, white-hot as a star, and she could taste it at the back of her throat, hard and bitter. Painful ringing grew louder in her ears, drowning out the rest of the white noise of the restaurant's business around them. "Ambrose isn't an 'it', Brendan. Ambrose likes he and him pronouns."

Brendan stared back, mollified and thrown off kilter at the acidity of Shay's tone. When he managed to untangle his tongue, he nodded first and simply said, "Okay."

The waiter chose that moment to swing by their table, offering a broad smile and a basket of fresh soft bread and butter as he asked if they were ready to order, or if they needed time to review the menu any further. Shay stiffly recited her order, and Brendan offered his in a quiet, subdued voice. The waiter swept up the menus, beaming as he did, and it was back to the simmering silence that stewed between Shay and Brendan once again.

Brendan picked at his cutlery after unwrapping it from the clothe napkin, setting them neatly side by side on the table, the napkin an uneven lump off to the side. Sienna pecked at his arm, cheeping at him for some of the bread with both words and pantomiming with her head. She wouldn't meet Shay's gaze, making it a point to avoid it completely. Brendan got Sienna her bread and she pecked at it absently. Every other peck, she'd pause to assess her trainer. Shay asked if Ambrose wanted anything, and he nodded. Shay slid him a piece as well, and he nibbled at his prize.

"I'm sorry."

The words pierced the ringing still on-going in Shay's head and the sound dimmed. Brendan was tentative as he met her gaze.

"I didn't mean to offend you or make you mad. It's just…I've seen the results of pokémon forced to battle, even when they're at a severe disadvantage because of a disability."

"Are you speaking from personal experience or from having watched one too many documentaries on television?"

Brendan's gaze fell to a spot on the table, his shoulders hunching in on themselves, making him seem smaller. "A bit of both," he admitted. "Not…not _me_ , personally. But other trainers whom I've seen in other towns when I visited with my dad on his business trips, when I was allowed to come. Pokémon with missing limbs. Hearing problems…blindness. Other stuff. Their trainers kept them around, even though they obviously didn't need to be in the ring. And…don't even get me started on the illegal underground fight rings. Those places…no pokémon should ever be found there."

He reached for the glass of water on the table, the glass beaded with condensation. He gulped down a few large swallows before continuing. "You'd think that pokémon with disabilities would be barred from battling. That they'd be restricted from it or that the League would draw the line _somewhere_. It's natural, of course, for pokémon to _want_ to battle. There's nothing wrong with that, except…they sometimes don't do as well, they suffer more. And it isn't fair to throw them into the ring when they might have a type disadvantage but also a _physical_ disability."

He snapped his mouth shut, perhaps feeling as though he was rambling and getting too heated on the topic. He took another long draft from his water. Sienna paused in her bread-pecking to glance worriedly at her trainer. She shot one or two looks Shay's way as well, but her focus largely remained on Brendan.

Ambrose tilted his head at Brendan, thoughtful as he chewed his food.

"Brendan, I'm not making him do anything he doesn't already want to do. Ambrose chose to come with me. He chose this life. If he chooses to not battle anymore, I won't make him do it against his will. He should have that choice; I shouldn't be forcing what I want on him and I won't." She thought for a moment, collecting her words before an idea struck her. "Do you guys have the Olympics here in Hoenn? For people, not pokémon."

"Um…sure. Sports contests and stuff."

"Is there a division for people who lost their limbs or the ability to walk," she pressed, and he stared at her as though she had suddenly begun to grow another head or set of limbs.

"I…guess? I never really paid attention to that kind of stuff, but yeah. I think so."

"Does anyone ever force them to do that stuff?"

"Uh…no. I don't think so."

Shay shook her head. "Same concept—and bear with me here—it's the same concept with Ambrose. I can't speak for those other people and their pokémon that you saw…but I can promise this. I won't force anyone on the team to fight if they don't want to. Not just Ambrose. If he one day decides to up and quit, I can't and won't force him to stay. I'm not some slave-driving asshole who's trying to squeeze them for every penny they can make me. Okay? It's their choice to stick around for as long as they want. I'll get sad and maybe upset if they decide to leave, sure. But I'm not going to be that kind of asshole. I'm a completely different kind of asshole, but I'm not that kind."

Brendan snorted in spite of himself, a grin cracking across his face.

"Arceus almighty, Shay. You…you, I really don't get you. Sometimes I think I do, and then you go and say shit like that," he said, shaking his head. He stifled his laughter, but there was a melancholy written in his eyes, one that touched the smile on his face. "I'd like to believe that. Really, I do. But a lot of people tend to make that same promise. And a lot of them tend to break it."

He shifted his gaze to Ambrose once more, pity and contriteness lining the curve of his jaw and the lines of his brow, lingering still. Ambrose stiffened, his attention once more gravitating to the young man across the table.

"Tell him to stop that. I don't want nor need his pity," Ambrose muttered darkly to Shay. She frowned at him but turned to Brendan all the same.

"He doesn't need your pity, Brendan. He'll be fine. Ambrose may not see like you and I do, but he can sense the world well enough that he can navigate just fine."

Brendan opened his mouth as though to pursue the topic, but gulped back down his words, appearing cowed enough to know better. Instead, he lapsed back into silence and for a moment, Shay hated her own defensiveness about as much as she hated him for not trusting her, believing her. And in that moment, she was back to swallowing the bitter anger and sour confusion that plagued her from back home whenever she heard her more conservative coworkers openly supporting a man who shouldn't have been voted into the presidential office, and yet he was despite all the wrongness he stood for. And when those in power flout the law so openly, so brazenly, those beneath would come crawling out of the woodwork, emboldened by an authority figure doing much the same to allow their narrow-minded bigotry to take the wheel like a drunk driver with car keys in hand.

This right now wasn't the same thing, far from it. She couldn't imagine the experiences Brendan went through growing up, of the sights and situations he had been witness to. But it made her wither on the inside that he didn't seem to trust that she meant every word that she said, that she meant on following through with her promises.

He didn't know her that well. How could he judge her so quickly?

Food arrived shortly after, and Shay was glad to have something to do with her hands and her mouth. She ordered another glass of wine, was almost tempted to just ask for the whole damned bottle and then some to go after dinner. She was still entertaining the idea when Brendan spoke again, drawing her out of her contemplative thoughts.

"Everyone keeps looking at us."

Shay had noticed. Whenever she grew tired of looking down like a beaten dog, she'd take a gander around them, and noticed from time to time that people would look back at her, really stare long and hard. Sometimes, when gazes met, the other party would hurriedly look away, as though embarrassed that they had been caught looking at her.

She glanced at Brendan, catching the concern painting his face. She returned to spooning more food into her mouth before answering.

"They see me, a young woman with a swollen shiner and a bunch of stitches across her face, who is upset, and you, a strapping young man who is nearly twice as big as me, arguing in public. It doesn't take a genius to make assumptions."

"Assum—oh. OH. Oh, crap. You don't think that they think…?"

"Yeah. I do."

Shortly after her MEU deployment, one of the only other females Shay had bunked down with on the ship, who had deployed with her from the same unit, had returned home in short order. Three weeks after they had all settled back down, Corporal Browne came in to work, sporting a fat lip, a lacerated cheek, and an eye so swollen she couldn't see out of it. She claimed she ran into a doorjamb at home, clumsy mistake. A week after that, her husband was arrested by PMO, and a month after that, she was divorced and living in the barracks again. They had had no kids or pets, so there was some relief to be had, although not by much.

They'd been married for less than two years, but everything came spilling out into the light once the Lance Corporal Underground got its hands on the juicy details: Corporal Browne had been enduring her husband's abuse in all senses of the word. The day she walked in with her face jacked up had been the first time he's ever hit her where it could be plainly seen. Everything else had been where the bruises wouldn't show in any uniform she wore. Deployment had simply been a long break for her from his fists.

Perception was reality in most cases. She told Brendan none of this, even as she mused on the memory of a young woman she hadn't thought of in years, not since she'd left North Carolina years ago.

"In about ninety-five percent of cases, perception is reality," she simply told Brendan, then took a sip her wine. It was sweet and bubbly, with the faintest tingle of alcohol touching her tongue. It was delicious.

"And the other five percent?" Brendan pressed with a tentative and lopsided smile.

"Well, that's where we fall in. This isn't one of those cases in the ninety-five percentile."

"Thank goodness for that, I guess." Brendan's smile grew, somewhat emboldened by her encouraging words.

"Who knows. Maybe they think you're the guy who came to my rescue from some unseen assailant. That could be the best-case scenario," Shay went on, offering him a cheeky grin, even if it stung to stretch her facial muscles. Brendan snorted derisively at the idea.

"Right. Like you need any rescuing. From what I can tell, you can take care of yourself just fine. You and your team sent that Team Aqua guy and his pokémon running for the hills with their tails tucked between their legs."

"Yeah, I did, so you better check yourself before you wreck yourself when you tangle with me, if you know what's good for you."

Brendan's smile practically split his face in two, mirth glittering deep in his eyes as he regarded her from across the table. Relaxation seemed to finally seep into his frame. Sienna seemed to reflect this as well, as her sluggish, nervous movements gained a more peppy and energetic flow. Ambrose leaned her way, head tilting upwards as he showed off yet another grin.

"Not bad deflating the tension, Shay," he said, encouraging and soft and approving. It was a departure from his usual cockiness, lending her comforting and tender affection.

Her smile softened, but she said nothing as she took another sip of her wine. The waiter returned, a tray brimming with delectable foods sitting upon its flat surface. He doled out the plates for Brendan and Shay, then offered two bowls of simmering pokémon food to Sienna and Ambrose. He gave pause, asking for the number of each of their teams, and went bustling away with promise to have food ready for them when they were ready to leave.

"I'm surprised that you have a full team already, Shay. I don't even have that," Brendan said after a few bites into his food. Shay dug into hers as well, tentative and experimental. It was a stew of some sort, simmered in a red wine that served as the broth. It was surprisingly good, if a hint bit sweet for her tastes. She didn't hesitate to lay out a barrage of pepper to spice it up just a bit.

"Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Technically, you've already asked me something, but go ahead and ask me something else, if you still have questions."

Brendan snorted, grinning. "Smart ass."

"You knew I was a smart ass."

"I actually didn't, not really. I only hung around the lab a few times since you came to work there. Kind of wish I stopped by a little more now."

Shay stiffened at the remark, but Brendan didn't seem to notice, and he pressed on with his previous line of inquiries.

"I noticed that your Poochyena had some horns growing out of its head. And your Taillow, they didn't seem to be pure-bred, either. Do you think I could take a look at them later on? It's for a line of research I've been pursuing for a while now, but I've never really gotten a chance to…um…what is it?"

Shay's spoon clinked gently against the fine china of her bowl. She heaved a long and heavy sigh, lips pursed tightly together, but she kept herself calm and measured instead of snapping like before.

"Sela and Faye are fine. They don't need to be poked and prodded."

"Oh. Oh, no! No, no, no! That's not what I meant. I just want to record them. I'm not going to hurt them."

"I don't think you're going to hurt them, Brendan, I just don't want them to be…" she paused, twirling a hand, as though the motion would conjure up the words she could feel but couldn't formulate. It evaded her completely and she groaned. The feeling was gone and so were the words, so teasingly close on her tongue, but they escaped. "Why do you need to look at them?"

"I only wanted to record their data. Nothing more. I don't want any blood draws or other kinds of samples. Just visual. I've never seen a Poochyena with horn nubs before, and your Taillow has a…slightly more elaborate dressing of head feathers than I've seen. I surmise they're hybrids of some sort, two separate pokémon parents that aren't of the same species. I've seen photographs in scientific journals and meetings whenever I could, but I've never really seen anyone go into depth on the breeding specifics, on hybrid offspring. It's a bit of a field that no one else has tackled, it seems. Maybe I could work on it as a starting point if I want to become a professor like my dad."

There was an earnestness in Brendan's face as he spoke, his eyes alighting in passion driven by something he seemed to love. It was a far cry from the uncertainty that had plagued him that night when she had gone out to dinner with him, Jacob, and Meryl. Perhaps their wheedling had caused him to withdraw into himself, but now that he was out of their good-natured jeering, he felt safe to flourish on his own.

Shay felt a little bit of jealousy roil up and churn within her, but it was fleeting and lost shortly after. She had stayed so long in the military, she hadn't known what else to do with her life. She hadn't thought of going to school for a professional career in the workforce outside of the Marine Corps. Even if she did, she doubted she'd be able to get a job in any other field aside from supply and logistics while she went to school, and she didn't want to do that.

She was good at supply. It didn't mean it was her dream job. It didn't mean she wanted to be doing it for a majority of her life. She didn't know what she wanted to do, and even here and now, she still didn't. Perhaps her art? She hasn't drawn anything worthwhile in…Christ, _months_. It felt…wrong. She wanted to draw, even if they were stupid scribbles and not the full-fledged illustrations she was used to working hard on, day in and day out, in the comfort of her barracks room. Supply was what she was good at, but it wasn't what she wanted to do.

What would she do once she got back home? Could she go back to the Marines? Or would they treat her as a deserter and throw her ass in the brig for god knows how long? Would she be kicked out, dishonorably discharged, forever more with that black mark upon her permanent record? She'd be barred from any benefits, educational or medical or what-have-you.

The acerbic thoughts of everything spiraling into the worst possible scenarios made her stomach turn. Suddenly, her food tasted bitter and dry in her mouth, and she had to force it down rather than throw it back up like she wanted. She turned to the last remnants of her wine, ignoring how it tasted sour to her tongue instead of sweet like it once had minutes ago.

"Um…if you don't feel comfortable with me looking, I won't ask again. I didn't mean to impose the idea—"

"Only if they want to. That's the condition. They don't like it, you don't look."

Brendan stared, mouth popping open slightly before he clacked it shut and gave a sharp little nod.

"Okay, then. Agreed. I can't force them if they don't want to be looked at. And I sure as hell can't force you to let me, not even if I tried," he said with a grin before adding, "Clearly, the other guy didn't learn his lesson until you had to beat his ass into the ground. I'd rather not be on the same receiving end if I tried my hand at it."

Shay's smile came more slowly this time around as she tucked back into her meal. Her good mood had spoiled from the intrusion of her earlier thoughts.

* * *

 **Have some military lingo!**

 _ **MEU**_ **: Short for "Marine Expeditionary Unit"; basically, you stick a bunch of Marines on a naval military aircraft carrier or ship of some sort. They focus on ground, air, and water combat elements and are meant to be quick reaction forces abroad. There's a lot more to it, but I will admit: I haven't been on a MEU. I wish I had gone on one, because that would have counted as a deployment stint in my career. Unfortunately, I had a micromanaging Gunnery Sergeant who refused to let me go, insisting I needed to be overly intimate and knowledgeable with my job as he was…even though I wouldn't really have needed to be on that kind of deployment. Not really.**

 _ **PMO**_ **:** **Provost Marshal's Office. Basically, they're military police. PMO Marines hate other Marines. It's a simple fact of life. An example being that, if someone were to drive 36 MPH in a 35 MPH zone on base, they can and will pull your ass over and issue you a ticket out of pure and utter malice. (This actually happened to one of my guys from my first unit; PMO literally quoted it on the ticket he received.) They delight in dangling their authority over any and all they can. A measly Lance Corporal can pull over a full-blown Colonel and issue them a ticket without repercussions, and without giving a good-goddamn about it, either. Marines, in return, hate PMO. It's the circle of life with base living.**

 _ **Lance Corporal Underground**_ **: The absolutely legendary methods in which the lower enlisted use in order to acquire and spread information and rumours. It's the only way those beneath the rank of NCO know what the hell is going on in the tightknit Marine Corps community, long before it is even officially announced. Someone's getting punished? We heard about it before even the Commanding Officer did. The new check-in just slept with someone from the local stripper bar and got married? We sent the newlyweds a house-warming gift before they even stepped out of the courthouse with their signed marriage certificate. Surprise inspection at the barracks at the end of the week, with beer and titties? Okay, that last part might not be true. Misinformation tends to spread just as fast as actual information. But the point still stands! WE KNOW THINGS.**

 _ **Additional Notes**_ **: True story; when** _ **Pokémon Go**_ **first came out, everyone in my company (a measly fifteen people strong, when the Reservists weren't in during their obligated weekends) that was a Sergeant or below began playing it (which was roughly half the company). Literally all we did all day. Oh sure, we had weapons that were on backorder and due any day, supplies that needed tracking, Reservists' paperwork to take care of…but we put it all on hold to play** _ **Pokémon Go**_ **. Or, alternatively for one particular Sergeant, he struggled to even get on the server to play in the first place. I recorded him ranting and raving and overall, every other word out of his mouth was "fuck" by the end of things. It was delightfully hilarious, and I took some things from that rant and plopped in here.**


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Seafarer

**Chapter Sixteen:  
** **Seafarer**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: I wanted to give a special thank you to one of my reviewers who goes by _Mal._ Thank you for your last review; I am so glad that you're enjoying my story, and I found you opening up to be an amazing thing, and I am so, so happy that you appreciated my meager attempts at giving some form of diversity in this story. I want to keep trying, and I hope that Ambrose becomes your favourite character in the foreseeable future. He may be blind, but he is my little badass, and just as he made me proud in my game run, I hope he makes you proud to watch his journey in this story unfold! **

**With another note, I must rejoice! Free at last, free at last! Spring semester is complete, my summer is free, and fall semester is down the line. I start a massively intensive animation class when it hits, so as fair warning, updates will slow down around that time. I'll be sure to give another heads-up when the time comes.**

 **With all that aside, thank you to all the new readers who followed my page and this story! I'd love to hear feedback and how you're liking the story so far! As always, my blog,** ** _blue-skiesand-silverlinings_** **, is open for asks directed toward the characters, and art is posted semi-regularly.**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

 **Badges Won** **: Stone Badge**

* * *

 _She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air."  
_ **—"** _ **Tithe: A Modern Faerie Tale**_ **" by Holly Black**

* * *

Shay's head was buzzing pleasantly. It was a welcome relief from the constant throbbing ache that beat uncomfortably at all angles inside her skull. The wine had tempered it, leaving her limbs tingling and fuzzy and loose. She knew it would come back in time, but for now, it was manageable as it beat dully behind the edges of her temples. The cab she and Brendan took slid to a crawl until it was idling at the curb right outside the Rustboro Pokémon Center. The taller young man helped her out, looking about as relaxed as she felt. The light spilling out onto the streets was warm and inviting. Brendan paid for the cab fare, despite Shay's protests, but he insisted, handing out the cash before Shay could dig for her wallet.

She pouted at him as they walked back into the lobby, mostly clear except for a few trainers, and some nurses.

"I could have paid, you know."

"I know," Brendan replied breezily, unabashed. Shay felt her good mood sour slightly. He had done the same thing at dinner as well; paying for the bill before she could even see it, even when she persisted in paying for her half. It was _annoying_.

She almost didn't notice the waving nurse at the front lobby desk, not until she heard a voice calling out, and Brendan stopped in his tracks. He gently tapped her shoulder.

"Shay? I think that nurse is waving at you."

She paused, looking over, squinting and perplexed. She dithered, wavering a little as she stood there, until she finally felt her feet compelled to move of their own volition. Quietly, she excused herself and extricated herself from Brendan's side. Her body was on autopilot while klaxons rang warnings in her head. She stopped at the desk, resisting the rising urge to fret and wring her hands.

The woman behind the desk beamed at her, relief washing over her features as Shay approached. She rifled through a drawer in her desk and immediately plopped something onto the desk in front of her.

"Hey there, you're looking much better than you did the other night, ma'am!"

Shay stared at her, drawing a blank at the woman's familiar tone with her. The smile stretching her lips slowly collapsed in on itself and the woman cleared her throat, dropping her gaze as her cheeks flushed.

"I suppose you don't remember me all that well, if you really did have a concussion. Um, I was the one who called the ambulance for you the other night. You know, after the cops had left you alone?"

Faint recognition flickered in Shay's dim memories of that night and she returned the hesitant, uncertain smile at the woman. The nurse who had helped her. That rang a bit of a bell.

"O-oh. Right. I'm…I'm sorry, I don't really recall it all that well."

It was a half-truth. Shay wasn't all that great at remembering peoples' faces after only a few times of seeing them. It took quite a few meetings—and nametapes—to help hammer in that person's identity into her brainpan. Her eyes flicked to the woman's nametape pinned to her scrubs at that moment, and she felt another flicker of recognition flare up inside her skull. Bethany. That, too, sounded familiar. She remembered white scrubs and hearts and Chansey prancing across the fabric…

Bethany work different ones today: cartoonish taffy-pink and pearl-white Corsola decorated the main fabric, a daring sea mint green. They romped about across the fabric, looking playful and happy.

"Sorry. I really, really am sorry. I didn't mean to offend—"

"It's okay, really. Not everyone gives more than a passing glance at a nurse. We're just background surplus or furniture to most people until they need something." The woman's lips stretched into another smile, this time shy and small and embarrassed.

Shay stared at her, somewhat aghast at the dismissal of her role.

"No, you're not. You're more than just another face in here."

Bethany blinked, taken aback by the sudden bark in Shay's tone, and she sat up straighter in her seat.

Shay took in a deep breath, steadying herself.

"You're not just another piece of…whatever, background, here. You're essential. You take care of people—and people's pokémon, too. And you comfort them if something doesn't go exactly right. You care, that's why you got in this profession, right?"

Bethany's pale cheeks bloomed a pale, ruddy red and she darted her eyes across the surface of her desk, mumbling a soft agreement. Shay leaned forward against the higher lobby desk to peer at the pokémon nurse.

"You take care of the files, the care of the pokémon left in your charge, you perform any and all tests that are needed to confirm diagnoses…you do much more than just sit at this desk. Today's just your shift manning it, right?"

Bethany's blush deepened and she laughed, nodding. "Yeah, it is. And…I guess you're right. I don't get a lot of trainers who come through here with as much enthusiasm towards nursing!"

"Oh, I'm not…I don't—" Shay chuckled. "I'm not in the profession of nursing. Or…pursuing it. But! I do have a few family members who are nurses—but, um. Human-centric. I don't recall if anyone worked in a Pokémon Center, but it wouldn't surprise me if someone further down the line did!"

Bethany's brown eyes shimmered, and in the light, they caught bright flakes of gold dappled within their depths as she stared at Shay with interest. "Really now? Most everyone in my family has been in the pokémon practitioners' field for as long as I can remember, on both sides of my family. I never considered human patients before. It's always been pokémon this and pokémon that in my household!"

Shay wasn't surprised at all by the admission. Bethany laughed, and it was a joyous sound, one that wasn't constrained by strict professionalism and the "act nice to customers" shield.

Shay talked with the nurse for a little while, listening as attentively as she could, as Bethany listed a few funny stories that her family had come home with, and with a few of her own. Shay, in return, related how her own grandmother—primarily a labour and delivery nurse of over forty-five years, now retired—had assisted in Shay's delivery at her birth—and how her mother's doctor had screwed up how far along her mother had been. They had told her mother how she had been at thirty-eight weeks, when in reality she'd been at forty—not to mention, her mother was having contractions, but the doctors delayed those with medication. Her mother took the prescribed drugs to disrupt contractions until her grandmother had told her to stop taking them, to go to the hospital, and then she'd hopped on a red-eyed midnight flight from California to Oklahoma to help Shay's mother. She also made it a point to berate Shay's idiot attending doctor for the misdiagnosis.

Of course, Shay had to leave California and Oklahoma out of the equation and had to improvise things a bit—saying her grandmother had been in Goldenrod and Shay being born in Cerulean. It was fast and sloppy, but Bethany seemed to drink it in without question.

"In another twist of irony," Shay remarked with a wide, tired grin, "my mother had to have a C-section after all the fuss, and when they gave her morphine for the procedure, they all found out that she was allergic to opioids, every single kind. Perfect timing, right?"

It was a very good thing that the names of some medications were the same in this world as they were in hers. It was something she had found out her first hospital visit in Petalburg for her kidney stones. The doctors had given Shay morphine to dull the pain during her initial first few hours in the hospital.

Bethany laughed, her cheeks rosy and one arm encircled around her stomach as she doubled over in her chair, the other arm leaning against the desk to brace herself.

"Oh, that is _terrible_! But I'm assuming everything was worked out in the end, right?"

Shay nodded in response. "It did, my mom is fine, but there was that time when I was old enough to walk and talk, I asked my mom to _'show her the hole I came out of'_ in a grocery store when she was batting her eyes at a handsome dude in line behind her at the register. He was in a nice suit and everything, she told me. She said I mortified her, even as she tried to explain I was a C-section baby to everyone around her."

"But w-wait," Bethany gasped, pushing herself up. "Why were you a C-section again?"

"Breech baby," Shay motioned to herself with a listless shrug. "I was in perfect position two weeks prior to the C-section."

Bethany's expression sobered up as she regarded Shay.

"Wow. That sounds horrible. I can't believe that doctor messed up so badly." A pause. "I've had to assist with C-sections on some pokémon before, because of pregnancy complications. It's never fun performing those kinds of surgeries. I can only imagine how much worse it can be for human beings, though."

"I can imagine that it's not fun at all." Shay nodded. "And it was almost thirty years ago for me and my mom, so…yeah."

Bethany sat up straight, eyes snapping wide and she gaped at Shay, scrutinizing her more thoroughly now.

"I'm sorry, but how old _are_ you?"

"Um…twenty-seven."

"No, you're not. You can't be more than eighteen!"

Shay rubbed the back of her head. She got this often enough that it was a statement as old as time. Many more people yet have always looked at her twice when she said she was in the Marines, looking both impressed and dubious at her claims. "My mom still gets carded and she's in her late forties."

Bethany's mouth popped open as she studied Shay with a sharp eye. "Wow. Good genes. You're about eight years younger than I am, and let's face it, I look way older."

"Naaaaah, you look like you're in your early thirties."

Bethany chortled, looking nonplussed and pleased all at once.

"Oh, you're sweet to say that, honey. But it's true, mid-thirties, right here." Bethany replied, but her humour was reined in and her eyes swept across the desk before they lit up again. "Oh! That's right, the reason I was calling you over was because of a delivery. Gym Leader Roxanne dropped this off for you."

The nurse lifted a reinforced envelope into view, sliding it across the taller desk surface toward Shay. She took it, curiousity piqued.

"She said it was your gym winnings. You were being treated by the gym EMTs because of…well, I'm guessing one of your injuries, and she completely forgot about the winnings."

"Oh," Shay breathed, understanding flashing through her head. "Thank you, Bethany. Really. It was nice talking to you and for you giving this to me."

The other woman bobbed her head and waved her on. "Go on and get some rest, sweetie. You look like you need it. Take as long as you need, and if you need anything, just give us a ring. We can supply you and your pokémon with food and new linens and the like. If you need us to check up on you, just make sure to have a wake-up call set up too."

Shay thanked her again and went on her way, turning on her heel, belatedly remembering she had left Brendan to attend to her business at the desk. Only, she found she was no longer accompanied by the young man. He was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

The dim lighting was a welcome relief on the pressure building behind Shay's eyes and didn't aggravate the light ache at the back of her head and along her temples. As soon as everyone spilled out of their pokéballs, they shook themselves and stretched, taking up space across the floor around them. Luna's long body looked like it was being pulled out even more as she raised her rump in the air and sprawled her upper body across the ground, yawning widely. She nimbly leapt onto the bed as soon as she finished before anyone else.

Shay sat the take out bag full of food from the Kalosian restaurant for the team on the desk and began unpacking it. Immediately, the sound had the team cloistering around Shay's legs, pressing in close. She didn't mind and smiled at them. Ambrose hung back a little, leaning against the bedframe as he listened, head lowered so his chin rested on his chest.

"It smells good," Sela remarked hungrily, her maraschino-red eyes glittering in anticipation. Shay quickly popped the tops off each tub of food, and carefully sat them down, one by one. They were each marked, she noticed, by the type of food each of her team members would need for sufficient nutrients and diet. Sela's had been packed full of protein-rich meat, while in retrospect, Keno had a rich selection of fish, shrimp, and varying types of worms. All the food was packaged in dense little one-inch cubes, perfect for munching on, no matter how big or small the pokémon may be. All of it had a Kalosian twist to it, or so the waiter had claimed.

Faye fluttered to the back of the chair beside Shay. Shay paused, motioning to one tub of food, marked for a Taillow's balanced diet: a collective of seeds, meat, insects, and more.

"Ground or here on the desk?" she asked the Taillow. Faye eyed the tub for only a moment.

"Desk, if you please," Faye replied smoothly. Shay nodded, setting it aside and popping the top off. Faye hopped across and settled down, already pecking at her food with her sharp beak.

Shay dove back into the bag, pulling out another tub. This was marked for Ambrose, and she glanced at the little Ralts. Even though he ate at the restaurant, they had packed up more for him to enjoy later. He shook his head, the unasked question hanging between them. He waved a paw at her.

"I'm good for now, but thank you," he answered her unspoken inquiry. Shay tucked that into the mini-fridge that was standard with the room and tugged one last package out: a small pink box tied neatly with a ribbon, containing a number of Shalour Sables—a specialty recipe of shortbread straight from the Kalos region. Shay shook it and heard the contents shuffle around within.

"If you guys are still hungry after eating, there's some of this, too."

She got several murmurs of thanks from the cluster of pokémon. Shay reached in for the last item within the bag: a bottle of the sweetest white wine from the restaurant. It was the one thing Brendan hadn't paid for all night; Shay managed to snag it on their way out. It was an especially popular brand in Kalos, the hostess at the front podium had assured her. She tucked that away into the mini-fridge. White wine always tasted better when it was chilled.

She sighed, folding up the bag, and began stepping away from the desk, and nearly kicked Breela in the process. Shay startled with a yelp, immediately lifting her foot away from the little Shroomish before she could. Breela shivered violently and plopped down on the ground in an attempt to curl in on herself.

"Shit—Breela, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!"

Breela trembled and waited before uttering a tiny voice, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get underfoot."

Shay crouched and picked her up, tucking the Shroomish into the crook of her arm, then picked up the dish she had been nibbling at.

"Don't apologize. I didn't realize I put your food so close to me. It's my bad."

Luna had abandoned her spot on the bed in lieu of eating, but the spot where she had laid was still quite warm. Shay put Breela down on the bed, alongside with her food. Slowly, Shay began to strip off her boots and socks and bra and changed back into her more comfortable sweatpants. Ambrose, in the interim of all this, had hauled himself up onto the bed and sat beside Breela, one hand braced behind him, the other patting Breela gently on the side of her head. She froze at first contact, but eventually settled and tucked back into her meal.

Shay slowly collapsed onto the bed, closing her eyes, trying to recall when she had last taken a painkiller, and wondered if it was worth getting up to take one right now. Another body joined the gathering on the bed. Judging by the heavy purrs and warm body plopping against Shay's side, she hazarded a guess it was Luna. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, feeling the edges of her thoughts fraying comfortably. The others murmured softly to one another between bites of food, carrying on conversation she only caught snippets of. Their voices were too low and quiet for Shay to understand.

The soft lights dimmed out completely. Shay sensed it behind the lids of her eyes, and when she opened them, it was dark in the room. The others had slowly, one-by-one, come to join her on the bed. Keno was the last, crawling into place beside Shay slowly but surely. He pulled a pillow over to her and she gratefully took it, tucking it under her head.

"Thanks," she mumbled, closing her eyes again. "Let's get some rest."

"Are we doing anything tomorrow?"

The inquiry came from Sela, but Shay sensed that the others were just as keen to know the answer to that. Shay hummed softly as she tried to recall her schedule. Then she gave a half-hearted nod against the pillow.

"Check-up for me at the hospital. After that, we'll head out to Dewford." Shay paused, peeping an eye open. She could make out the outlines of the others. Luna was still pressed to Shay's belly, purring away. No doubt she'd leave Shay's side later in the night, to pad around the room when she grew tired of her sleeping spot. Breela was tucked away beside Sela and Ambrose alike, still as ever. She usually grew tired after eating and needed the time to digest before doing anything else. Keno's head was close to Shay's, sprawled parallel to the edge of the bed. She could just barely feel his head fin brushing against the side of her head. Faye nestled close to the Marshtomp, nesting down for the night. Shay blinked a few times, yawning.

"Hey, Ambrose?"

"Hmm?"

"Think you can get us to those docks just south of Petalburg Woods?"

Ambrose's head tilted her way. "Of course." A pause. "I assume you have a reason."

She didn't feel the familiar itch-tickle-scratch that accompanied his light mental prodding. Or she thought she didn't, anyways.

"I think Mister Briney lives out that way. I'd like to check up on him and Peeko." She swallowed and cleared her throat. "He also might know someone out there that might be willing to take us out to Dewford."

There was a series of murmurs and hums of approval. Ambrose largely remained quiet, but Shay could sense the amusement roiling off of the little Ralts, even as she slowly felt herself drifting off into a more restful sleep.

* * *

The pain that beat at the spaces in her head was more bearable the next day. Not by any large leaps or bounds, but enough to make a difference, enough to drive away a fraction of the misery she'd been dealing with for the last few days. Ambrose insisted that he use Teleport to get them to the hospital after breakfast.

"It'll be faster and cheaper than waiting for a cab," he pointed out when Shay began to argue. She clacked her mouth shut with a heavy sigh and a groan, not taking that long to recognize that he was right.

She felt more of her appetite returning and managed to get more into her stomach. She downed the rest of her coffee in a hurry when she realized that she still had several things to do before they left Rustboro. Dumping her cash winnings into her bank account (courtesy and thanks to Professor Birch and Norman both for helping pull strings in that regard) was high on her list, since she didn't want to go around carrying huge wads of cash. She also felt the need to get in touch with Brendan (she had no idea what room he was in, yet he knew her room). She still had her medical appointment to follow-up on, as well as a mandatory check-up call with both Norman and Professor Birch…

"Don't forget re-upping our supplies before we hit the road," Ambrose quipped out of the blue as they marched across the lobby. Shay gave her surroundings a cursory glance, shivering at the familiar creeping feeling of Ambrose's presence in her head. It wasn't intrusive, by any means; he was merely passing over her surface thoughts. She was getting better at recognizing his presence. Keno gave her a curious look, his steps faltering as he ping-ponged his gaze between her and Ambrose. He huffed quietly.

"Ambrose, you shouldn't be digging into people's heads." Keno scolded, trotting after Shay. Luna and Sela slunk about side by side, darting along with all the grace of forest creatures. Breela was, predictably, tucked in her pokéball per her request, whilst Faye took up residence on Shay's shoulder. She kept her head on a swivel, keeping her eyes sharp and ears pricked at the slightest disturbance that sounded off to her.

"It's fine, Keno," Shay chided gently, and the Marshtomp frowned up at her.

"But you don't like it, do you?"

"It's _fine_ ," Shay asserted, this time more firmly, and he reluctantly let the issue drop.

 _I don't like it, but it's not like I can stop you from eavesdropping on my thoughts_ , she added quietly, and she felt the gentle itch-shiver-scratch retreat, leaving a trail of faint mirth as it did. Shay stepped through the front doors of the lobby, exiting the Pokémon Center. She shifted her sling-pack more comfortably around her shoulder, wincing as her bruises and aching muscles twitched in protest.

 _Thank goodness for muscle relaxers, anti-inflammatories, and ice packs._ She had that to look forward to later at the next Pokémon Center in Dewford when everything was all said and done, when her errands were complete, when she got her pack in full, checked out and left.

True to Ambrose's word, as soon as they hit the street, he used Teleport and took them straight to the hospital entrance halfway across the city. A few people jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of Shay and her team, whilst others simply continued on their business. Ambrose wobbled on his feet, reaching out to grab Shay's leg for support. She dipped down to help hold him up. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Luna and Sela take up positions, as though in silent agreement to keep a look out. Faye ruffled her feathers and muttered how she felt tingly all over in Shay's ear, while Keno pressed in close, asking if Ambrose was all right. Breela shivered and tried burrowing deeper into Shay's side.

Ambrose offered a tired smile up at her. "Probably shouldn't have tried to Teleport all of us, honestly. But what's the point in pushing my limits if I play it safe?"

"I'm going to have to put you in your pokéball anyway. The hospital doesn't like pokémon running around underfoot."

There was a murmur of dissent from the team in response to that, and Shay sighed, silently agreeing with all of it and more. She could understand and somewhat agree with the logic of larger pokémon not being welcome; they were cumbersome and awkward, even in the double-wide hallways of a hospital. But smaller pokémon?

Well, there are more mischievous pokémon out there that could cause more harm than good to people recovering…

The slew of implications and possibilities began to flash through her head, and she had to shake them all away. She was overthinking things again.

With an apology to her team, she slowly returned them one-by-one into their pokéballs. Keno was the last, dithering on the sidewalk beside her as she plucked his pokéball off her belt.

"Let us out when we're in the clear?"

"Of course I will," Shay smiled at him. "Sorry I've been out of it—"

Keno waved her apology away with a flap of his broad hands. "No, no, no! You don't need to apologize! You were hurt, you just need to get better." He hesitated, frowning as he dropped his tiger-orange gaze down. "I just wish you could get better like I can. With the machines they use at the center, I mean. So, you don't have to hurt so much."

He was so earnest that it made Shay's teeth ache. He was such a sweetheart and her stomach clenched into a hard, painful knot. She didn't want to lose him, or any of her team. Shay wanted to protect them as much as possible.

This world was nothing like the games, even if there were some similarities. Death wasn't glossed over or covered up. It was just like in her world; a force of nature that catches up to everyone sooner or later. Pokémon could get grievously injured or even die in battles. They didn't faint or pass out in a cutesy fashion and tiny wail.

She smiled at him tightly even as she swallowed back the imposing images that flashed through her mind.

"That's really sweet, Keno. But I'll be okay, so don't worry too much about me." She hefted his pokéball into view. "I'll let y'all out when I'm done. Promise."

* * *

Even though her errands took nearly half the morning, time hadn't slowed to a crawl like she'd been expecting. It moved along smartly, without preamble, and for that, Shay was grateful.

With her winnings deposited in the bank, her bill of health more or less checking out clean, she was ready to go. She'd cleared her room, cleaning up everything, and coaxed all she needed back into her pack before checking out of the Pokémon Center. She found herself standing at the front desk, a different nurse than Bethany manning it today, as she returned her card key and a thought struck her.

"Excuse me? Sorry, I don't mean to be a bother, but a friend of mine is here in the center, too. I don't remember what room he was in, though. Is there any way I could pop by and tell him I'm heading out before I leave? It's Brendan Birch."

The nurse gave her a reproachful look, eyes darting to the computer screen, before she sighed.

"Usually no, we don't give away other patrons' information—"

"I-I was working with him at Professor Birch's lab a little while ago. I forgot to ask for his room number, and I'm heading out, I just don't want to disappear without saying goodbye."

He was technically the only person she could come close to calling a friend in Rustboro. Or Hoenn, for that matter. And he had left the other night while she had been chatting with the nurse without so much as a goodnight or goodbye. She wanted to check on him, to make sure he was all right.

The nurse held up a hand, and Shay's protests died down. "I'll give his room a call and see if he's there. That's the best I can do."

So, Shay waited with her team forming a loose semi-circle around her at the desk, as the nurse dialed into a phone and brought the receiver to her ear. Shay jittered on her feet, trying to not look impatient. Roughly a minute passed before the nurse put down the receiver, shaking her head. "No answer. Sorry."

The nurse didn't look or sound sorry at all. Shay pursed her lips and gave a stiff thanks to the woman.

 _I tried, at the very least,_ she thought. She made a mental note to try and ask for his number from Professor Birch.

Turning to her team, she motioned for them to follow. Once they were outside, Shay recalled everyone back inside their pokéballs, all except for Ambrose. He tilted his head in her direction, offering her one of his toothy grins.

"Ready?"

She didn't know if she'd ever be ready. Teleporting was strange. It made her feel woozy and tingly all over, almost like she was on a rollercoaster. Everything felt weightless and airy at one moment, and the next, it was as though gravity was beginning to realize it needed to apply itself to her and came slamming down with a vengeance. Everything, except her stomach and lungs, seemed to have caught on that they were needed and came dropping with her. It was probably a very good thing that she didn't suffer from motion sickness.

Ambrose pattered her leg reassuringly.

"You'll be fine. You always are."

His paw remained on her pantleg and he crimped the material, inhaled—

—and with the exhale, the nosedive-on-a-rollercoaster feeling washed over Shay. It was brief, but her sinuses and headache seemed to float away from her, tingly and warm, and then the moment of clarity returned as light danced around her, bright and hot and intense. It was brief, but it was almost searing.

And then it was all over and everything was back to the way it was. Her legs wobbled, her vision spun, but it all came snapping back into place and the moment of vertigo was over before it got a chance to settle in.

The fresh air was filled with a tinge of brine, and it was a heady yet welcome scent.

Shay glanced up at the sky stretched wide and cloudless above them, tinted darker behind her sunglasses, as a flock of Wingull pinwheeled through the air on their slim, long wings and angled away toward the collection of docks and seaside shops and cottages gathered in clusters on the western-most coast of Hoenn. It was officially known as "Northern Petalburg", but those that have come to the little coastal getaway as the "Wailord Wharfs". They were, apparently, famous for their whale-watching tours that they offer, and during migration seasons especially, they were often packed with people who want a peek at the whale pokémon.

In the games, there had been no shops or homes besides Mister Briney's cottage by the sea. It had been an empty beachscape. The waters beyond shimmered and danced with silver flashes playing across the deep blue canvas, broken only by the occasional foamy froth of waves further out. A sizeable amount of people were gathered in broken throngs on the boardwalk, milling about outside or dipping in and out of shops.

Ambrose lightly tapped Shay's leg and she diverted her gaze to stare at the Ralts at her side.

Wordlessly, she understood the context of his quiet message and began releasing the others from their pokéballs. They each stretched and took in stock of their surroundings. Shay let them gather their bearings before moving out and motioning to one of the outmost shops: a seafood restaurant that sported a sizable pair of Kingler pinchers on a display rack over the entrance.

"Let me ask where Mister Briney might be, and then we can head out."

"Um, Shay—"

"Just give me a minute Keno, we'll be in and out."

"Wait!"

Shay stumbled, nearly colliding with the doorjamb as she turned to glance back at Keno. He gave a quick glance at the others before stepping forward toward her.

"We're actually getting kind of hungry, and we were wondering if you wouldn't mind taking a break so we can all eat."

He watched her with those stark, bright-orange eyes of his, unwavering as he held her gaze. Shay almost rebuked the request, before thinking better on it and checked the time on her x-transceiver. She was startled to see it was well past noon and it was inching its way well into the mid-afternoon.

She hadn't even noticed the passage of time, and hadn't really felt all that hungry, either. Reluctantly, she sighed and nodded, pushing the door open for the others to trail in.

"Let's grab something to eat before we head back out," she conceded.

* * *

Mister Briney's cottage was of course not in Wailord Wharf proper. It was just a mile or two north, sequestered away and hidden behind a curtain of sandy hills and seagrass, with a wharf of his own. It was well-maintained, as was the small ship moored at the docks. It was sleek and clean at a distance, but she didn't doubt it probably had seen its fair share of nautical miles slip past its hull over the years.

Shay wound up the trail that led to the front of the cottage, with the sun beating down on her from the west. It reminded her of home, back in California. The thought made her stomach clench and she had to suppress the sudden emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. She missed home.

She missed going to the beach, even if it was a rare occurrence. When she had been stationed on the east coast, she tried to enjoy the beach parties, but it never felt the same. The sun set in the west, as always but the ocean faced eastward, and it never felt right to her. It had been a perverse feeling, watching as the waters grew dark first as the sun overhead set in the west. It was a perversion of what she was used to.

She missed the mountains that cradled her home town. The mountains always felt safe to her. The forests, while a welcome break in monotony in the landscape didn't provide the same comfort. The trees loomed menacingly overhead, up close and personal, like some mythical beast leering down at her. Everywhere she traveled, every place she went to, it always felt alien and wrong.

She found it strangely comforting that Hoenn provided a sense of consolation since she's been here. It didn't feel quite like home, but it was a close enough proximation that she didn't feel uncomfortable being alone.

The thought brought some comfort to her as she pushed her way to the front door of Mister Briney's cottage. The wood was weathered and stained from years of getting treated by the salty location, but stood firm and straight, it's wooden bits meeting the other neatly. It was a two-story compound, with a series of fishing nets hung to dry over the cottage's front, while a shed stood on a concrete slab between the cottage and the docks, perhaps filled with equipment and tools. The wind whipped across the exposed openness of the area, bringing in another mouthful of salt-tinged air along with it. That feeling of home and comfort came rushing in again, settling into Shay. She heard footsteps bustling around in the front of the cottage, along with squeaking, delighted cries.

Shay rapped he knuckles against the hardwood door, and the noises within stifled briefly, before starting anew. Without preamble, the door flung open and Mister Briney stood in its stead, staring over Shay's head at first, before alighting upon her with mirth and surprise.

"Oh, lass! What a surprise!"

He donned a woolen sweater, and a pair of faded corduroy trousers with simple boots tying it all together. Peeko the Wingull sat upon his shoulder, looking unruffled despite the events that had occurred several days past. Recognition gleamed in the white bird's eyes and she squeaked in delight, her feathers ruffling up in delight as she clacked her beak in Mister Briney's ear.

"It's that girl who helped me! She found us!"

"Settle down, Peeko, settle down!" The older gent laughed, a sound that came from deep down in one's belly and bubbled up out of another's mouth. It brought a faint smile to Shay's lips as relief washed over her. Peeko was all right and back home where she belonged. Mister Briney wasn't a fretful mess. Things were okay and it resonated with her in such a deep way that it surprised her.

A pang hit her in that moment of realization. The games had always been about hitting the next checkpoint in the story, to get to the next gym, the next battle, and the ultimate prize of the Pokémon League.

But actually being here, in the shoes of what had once been just a character of pixels and digital algorithms…

Mister Briney interrupted before the thoughts could bloom fully in her. He began waving a thick, callused hand at the young woman and her team.

"Come in, come in! It's still dreadfully hot out."

Mister Briney shuffled off to the side, offering the entry to his home clear. Shay dithered, giving a brief look over her team. Keno offered an encouraging, gummy smile at her and gave her arm a little pat. Heartening. Supportive. All those little nuances that could be summed in words, but were better left unsaid. His tiger-orange eyes flashed with mirth as they crinkled, ever so slightly, while he looked up at her with all the adoration that he could muster.

Keno trusted her, unconditionally.

A part of her was terrified at the prospect. It was the gaze of a starry-eyed fan who could see no wrong from their idol, their leader. She was anything but, and she was fallible, flawed. The thought that she'd screw up, sooner or later, terrified her to the core, and the idea of her plans screwing up so monumentally that it would cost him—or any of her fire-forged team members—anything anywhere between a limb or even their lives made her stomach churn.

All of that came crashing down on her head, right at the threshold of Mister Briney's household, and it took every inch of self-control she had to force it back down, even as it made her nauseous. She smiled through it all, as she turned away and averted her attentions to Mister Briney and Peeko and—

—Christ almighty, I could have gotten her killed with my stupid fucking harebrained plan, she could be dead because of me—

—Mister Briney was talking to her, but half of whatever he had said was lost, scattered to the winds, but Shay managed to gather the last half of what he was saying, and pieced together the initial intentions.

"—glad to see you're alright, lass. I worried for you, you know. I'm sorry I didn't check in on things, after Peeko, I meant, but by the time I turned around to do so, you were gone. The nice nurse told me you had gone to the hospital, and those blowhard wouldn't give me the time of day on your status."

They were in the living room of Mister Briney's cottage. She was sitting down, for which Shay was grateful for. If she had bene standing, she didn't trust herself to keep a steady footing. The room was anything but sparse. The couch was old but well-worn and loved, a buttery soft leather one that she occupied, while Mister Briney sat in an armchair with Peeko taking residence on his shoulder. The coffee table was equally as worn as the rest of the furniture, but polished and clean. A cabinet filled with curios behind the glass doors sat against the wall, and at the top of it, a small anchor sat. Across the way, smartly hanging on the wall beside the cabinet was a modest flat screen television.

Shay's team was scattered around the floorspace, taking advantage of the floorplan to sprawl. Keno and Ambrose alike remained by her side on the couch, casting her occasional glances welled up with well-concealed but meaningfully concerned glances every now and again. Peeko remained perched on Mister Briney's shoulder, and the old codger was bustling about, ducking in and out of the living room and into what Shay assumed was the kitchen.

He came out shortly after, bearing a polished tray with mugs brimming with steam. He took one for himself and offered the other.

"Coffee, with cream and a touch of sugar like you requested," he offered, and Lupin stared down blankly, swallowing and feeling her throat ache with dryness, scratchy and uncomfortable. She inhaled deeply and was satisfied by the sharp scent of coffee, tinged lightly with the mild smell of cream punctuating the air. She took a tentative sip and found the bitterness tinted with sugar a soothing taste on her tongue. It wasn't like the flavoured creams she preferred, but in a pinch, Shay wasn't opposed to plain sugar and cream—or even milk as a substitute—if it came down to it.

She was used to sacrificing commodities for substitutes. She's been dealing with such things for almost a decade now.

Mister Briney—and Peeko as well—rattled on for a brief while, and Shay tuned in more attentively as he beguiled her for a time. The Wingull would add things in that Mister Briney failed or forgot to mention, and it made for a hilarious storytelling, although at times the older gent would stare at her as though she wasn't quite sound, or his words weren't meant to be humorous at all.

Still, he carried on and it was a respite that Shay wasn't opposed to. She didn't tune out, much as she had previously been tempted to. When both Mister Briney and Peeko fell quiet, it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward. It was actually relaxed and natural. Her team had remained passive, listening to their hosts for a time, offering their own commentary every now and again. Shay had listened to it all, trying to remain equally attentive to all When the quiet fell upon them, they too seemed comfortable rather than awkwardly lapsing into silence. It lasted for only so long.

"I have to ask, lass…how did you find me? I don't recall offering my personal information."

Shay felt her choke on her swallow of coffee as the cup was to her lips and managed to recover quickly enough.

"I—I asked around. You aren't exactly unknown to the staff at Rustboro's Pokémon Center. And I asked around the wharf down a ways, and they said I could find you here," she settled for. Mister Briney chuckled, dropping his gaze and Shay felt some amount of relief lapping at her frayed nerves.

"Aye, I suppose that is true. I'm known in both Petalburg and Rustboro and Wailord's Wharf. Not that hard to ask around after me." Mister Briney leaned back into his armchair with a heavy and deep sigh. Shay leaned forward, with Keno right alongside her. She noticed, from the corner of her eye, the others were tuning in more attentively now as well, slowly but surely, in their own ways.

"I…I did want to make sure that you and Peeko were all right," Shay continued slowly, running her teeth along the curve of her teeth, hesitating, before adding, "And I was told if I needed to get to Dewford, you might be the person to ask."

Mister Briney sobered, leaning forward in his seat, no longer dewy-eyed and distant. Peeko fluttered her feathers and preened them, and gently nibbled at some stray locks of hair on the side of her trainer's head. The grizzled sailor looked Shay up and down, grim-faced and serious.

"Did they know?" he remarked evenly, watching the young woman across from him. Shay swallowed past the thick lump in her throat, dry and scratchy once again by the sudden nervousness ringing inside her. She held the older man's gaze, refusing to break it, and held it with as much steel as she could muster. As much as she wanted to crumble inwardly, she knew how to play the game: if she flinched, she lost This was a game she's played many times in the past, and often enough, it was a game that was either borne of seriousness or humour. Sadly, she could never tell as easily as others could, and felt it safer to retain a semblance of gravity first before anything else.

For a while, Mister Briney's gaze remained steely and solid, unwavering. It lasted for nearly a minute without any further context. Peeko broke it apart with her casual ministrations of preening and soft coos. Finally, after both an eternity and only a few moments, Mister Briney's face split into a kindly smile, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Peeko fluttered her wings and echoed her own thanks to Shay from her trainer's shoulder.

"Aye, I can help with that. Ye did do me a service in rescuing my precious Peeko here from that bastard." Mister Briney took pause to sip from his cup, eyes sliding closed as he did so. When he finished, he sat the cup down on the polished coffee table between them. "Have they caught any wind of this Team Aqua fellow an' his ilk?"

Shay shook her head. "I haven't heard anything, other than their grudging acknowledgement that I wasn't the perp."

The older man snorted gruffly, his bushy brows beetling together into a rough scowl. "I have no idea what those idiots at that department were thinking. An' that bloody nurse calling them in on ye in the first place!"

Shay uttered a quiet laugh, trying and failing to keep her smile back. "I'm mad but at the same time, I'm not. I kind of understand."

"Understandin' or not, her job was to _take care_ of Peeko, not to skulk away as soon as trouble comes knocking. Trainers come in with hurt pokémon all the time. Does she call the police on all of them when a pokémon gets so much as a conk on the head or a thorn in their paw? Ach! Utterly ridiculous!"

Sela snorted softly and offered a wolfish grin as she spied Shay from the corner of her eye. "I like him. He's not afraid to speak up on matters."

Keno mumbled something to the Poochyena before turning his bright gaze on Shay, a faint frown tugging at his lips. Shay found her smile broadening in spite of herself.

"I can get behind that thought process, too. I'm just glad one of the other nurses spoke up for me."

"Oh? I must have missed that part."

"Her name's Bethany. She actually called the ambulance for me after you went to check on Peeko."

"Glad t' hear someone had their head rightly about their shoulders." Mister Briney concluded with a curt nod. "I'll be sure t' pass my thanks on next time I'm in Rustboro."

Shay swallowed down her next comment on how that wasn't necessary and took a long draft of her drink instead. The bitter tang of the coffee stung her tongue in a pleasant and familiar manner. Small talk pass along after that. Mister Briney talked of his younger days, sailing on the sea across different regions, including one Shay had never heard of: Galar.

"It's actually where I'm from, originally. Oh, the pokémon they had there. There's actually a gruff little turtle that has the nastiest bite you'd ever see! Drednaw, it's called." Mister Briney chortled. Sela snorted softly where she sat, tail thumping against the floor.

"I'll show that thing a bite it's never seen before," she muttered softly, to which Luna gave her a pointed stare.

"I'm sure you would," Luna replied, eyes half-lidding and tail flicking in sharp arcs. Sela peeled her black lips back in a quiet growl. Peeko squawked at the two and pointedly clacked her beak sharply. Luna uttered a soft growl, while Sela fell quiet with her eyes narrowing. Ambrose chuckled on the seat beside Shay and Keno.

By the time they finished their drinks, the day was nearly spent. Threads of red-gold light bled into the sea as the sun began to dip along the edges of the water. Mister Briney stood and stretched while Peeko fluttered on his shoulder, thin wings beating against the air until he settled.

"Ach. It's gettin' late an' if we want t' get t' Dewford soon, we should head out." Mister Briney announced.

"It's definitely getting late! We'll be hitting those shores after dark!" Peeko added enthusiastically. Luna rolled to her paws and stretched her back into a curving arch, while Faye took to her wings and settled on Shay's shoulder, mirroring Peeko in a sense. Everyone else slowly clambered to their collective paws as Mister Briney collected their mugs and took them to the kitchen. When he returned, he motioned to the front door and opened it for Shay and her team.

"Right. Come along, then! We'd best be off if we're to make it to Dewford any time soon!"

Without further preface, he led the way to the wharf, where his vessel, the _Seafarer_ , sat. While Shay and her team boarded the ship—with Mister Briney's permission—he quickly got things underway. Before long, the ship was pulling away and cutting an arc across the waters, sending up a spray behind it in a churning foam-trail as they left the shores of Hoenn proper behind.

* * *

 _ **Additional Notes**_ **: Absolutely true about my birth. Breech baby C-section, opioid allergies, embarrassing toddler conversations. I am an absolute fucking joy.**

 **On another note, I'm happy to make mention of the Galar region, however small a dedication shout-out it might be. On another and separate note completely, I've added more art and WIP pieces on the** _ **blue-skiesand-silverlinings**_ **blog! The team lineup is slowly coming together, and I hope you'll stop by to check it out! As always, the ask box is open to any inquiries—both for the characters, the world, and beyond!**


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Wading In

**Chapter Seventeen:  
** **Wading In**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: Thank you to everyone who has watched, favourited, and reviewed the story since the last chapter! An especially big thanks to Friendly Guest and to Mal; your words were so kind and encouraging and I'm incredibly grateful for them all. I'm thankful that you found and enjoyed my humble piece of fan-made literature, and I hope to continue rising to the occasion in being entertaining. It is a bit of a slower pace, but I hope that y'all stick it out with me!**

 **Also, do you like mermaids? Do you like horror? Do you like science, badass ladies, and badass science ladies paired with** ** _Jurassic Park_** **vibes? I suggest looking into Mira Grant's "** ** _Into the Drowning Deep_** **"—which is courtesy of this chapter's quote no less—because it has it all! Definitely an edge-of-your-seat kind of a thrill ride and you won't regret it. Come meet the lovely ladies of the deep sea~**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

 **Badges Won** **: Stone Badge**

* * *

" _The seas did not forgive, and they did not welcome their wayward children home."  
_ **—"** _ **Into the Drowning Deep**_ **" by Mira Grant**

* * *

Keno and Ambrose were the first to notice they were slowing down, barely an hour into their journey. The two conferred with one another in hushed tones. Before long, the rest of the team was pulled into the conversation. Luna's fur stood on end as she hunkered down against the deck of the _Seafarer_ , yellow eyes glowering all around her. Faye, without word to the others, took the skies and in the last scraps of light from the distant horizon, managed to piece together why the ship was slowing down the way it was.

"There's something up ahead, floating in the waters," she reported, looking at each of the team members as she did.

Ambrose frowned, even as Sela pressed for more information, although Faye couldn't offer more than what she told them. Breela shivered violently and Keno took it upon himself to wrap his broad hand around the small Shroomish, uttering soft comforts to her.

"We're going to have go around it, whatever it is," Faye continued, her feathers ruffling up, denoting how disturbed she really was.

"What are you guys whispering about?"

Heads turned on a swivel to find Shay watching them from the doorway leading into the bridge, where Mister Briney was at the helm, with Peeko perched upon his shoulder. The young woman arched a questioning brow at them, curiousity painted in her eyes.

"We're heading towards a massacre," Ambrose intoned, lifting his head upwards toward his trainer. "Death lies ahead."

* * *

"Hey, just a crazy question, but…is there a reason we're slowing down?"

Mister Briney shot a glance over his shoulder before turning back around. Previously, before Shay had come to the bridge with a soft knock on the side to announce her arrival, he had been cooing softly to Peeko. The little Wingull was, without a doubt, pampered and loved and in return, adored her trainer. Mister Briney was absolutely smitten with his Wingull and would do anything for her. It was a kind of affection that was pure and innocent, as far as it could be.

Shay felt a little guilty for intruding upon the moment of relief and togetherness the two were having, but it was over something that couldn't be avoided. Once Ambrose had mentioned that a massacre was ahead of them, her team had been thrown for a loop.

"Fishing grounds have left a bit of a mess. We're going t' have t' find a way around. Shouldn't take too long, lass."

Shay hesitated before pressing on, her stomach churning, clenching, tightening into painful and hard little knots. "What…kind of a mess?"

Mister Briney sighed, and even Peeko seemed to droop as she tilted her head in Shay's direction.

"I'll show ye, lass. It's not pretty, but…it's what happens."

Fifteen minutes slipped past them, but to Shay, it felt as though an eternity and a half was sliding past, slow as molasses. Shay lingered for a while on the bridge before Mister Briney motioned for her to step outside and look off on either port or starboard. Uneasy but still curious beyond her best efforts, she did so. Faye fluttered back perch on Shay's shoulder, talons gripping at her clothing as she pressed close to the young woman's neck and cheek. Keno circled around to one side, Breela clutched in his arms. Luna prowled around the group before lifting herself up to peer over the lip of the railing. She bristled and yowled, her night vision better at picking out the shapes in the water than Shay's were, at first. Sela could barely see over the lip, being much shorter, but she mimicked the lanky Skitty all the same and saw the same carnage floating in the waters. The sea was stained red and bloody foam bubbled across the surface.

Shay recoiled when she realized what she was seeing, her stomach tossing as a hand flew to her mouth.

"Jesus fucking Christ," she muttered, her words muffled as Mister Briney cut the _Seafarer_ 's engine. A spotlight snapped on, bright and glaring, and the older gent swiveled it out to inspect the damage beyond. He came out to scrutinize the mess as well. He gusted out a heavy sigh from his barrel-thick chest, bushy brows lowering into a scowl as he uttered a few choice curses.

"What…what the fuck happened, that's…"

"Aye, lass. A whole mess of Magikarp, slaughtered for naught."

"But—but _why_? Magikarp…they aren't edible."

"Aye. Exactly," Mister Briney growled. "They got caught up in an illegal fishing mess. Humans don't find them edible an' most pokémon don't either for that matter, an' this is what happens. I guarantee that a slew of fishermen came out here, intent on grabbing up anything else an' the Magikarp got caught up in their mess. They got slaughtered as a result, because of how useless society tends to view them as. People see them as wastes of space. What people can't use…they dispose of."

"But…Magikarp, they evolve into Gyarados. I wouldn't exactly call that useless. They're scary powerful when that happens."

Mister Briney glanced at her with a slightly appraising look but the twinkle in his eye faded and was quickly replaced by white-hot, phosphorous rage as he stared at the bloodied bits of bone and scale floating around on the sea around them. Pieces of what had once been whole and living pokémon, reduced to bony chum. It couldn't have happened more than a few hours prior.

"At least _someone_ remembers. Magikarp are so wide-spread, humans tend to view them as vermin, seeing as how they can survive in even the most polluted of waters. They often forget just how merciless they can become once they evolve into the mighty Gyarados." With a pointed stare, he added with a heavy weight in his voice, "An' yet…humans tend to forget this fact, an' instead of seeing what can be, they only see what is, in the moment they are looking at something. Not what will be in the future."

Shay felt her throat go sandpaper dry, and it hurt to try and swallow. She stared at the butchery laid out in the waters and winced as some pieces slapped against the hull of the _Seafarer_ , preternaturally loud and disturbingly so. It made her feel all the more sick, and she had to fight the rising urge to puke as the smell of flesh going rotten began to perfume the air, ever so slight now but with every passing minute, it grew stronger.

"Isn't…isn't there anything we can do?"

"I've got t' report this t' the Coast Guard. They should be patrolling the waters to dissuade illegal fishing, but this still happens more often than I'd like." He spat and Peeko gave an angry little squeal, her feathers bristling out as she mimicked her trainer.

"Idiots," Peeko touted with a bob of her head. "This is happening more and more, and Mister Briney and I are the ones left picking up after their messes while the authorities do nothing!"

"What are they trying to find, exactly?"

"What, the bastards who do stuff like this?" Mister Briney snorted over his shoulder as he ducked back into the bridge. "Endangered species that are also considered delicacies an' plenty o' people will pay a fine price t' have something that nobody else can afford. Fisherman lookin' fer those specifics tend t' trough the waters up an' end up dealing a massive blow t' the ecosystem in the process. When you take out prey or predators, you disrupt a balance. Competition gets fiercer, others die out as a result, an' then everything gets thrown helter-skelter. Doesn't matter if it's underwater or on land. Everything an' everyone suffer in the end."

He disappeared into the bridge after that, and Shay could hear the crackle of a radio going off, with Mister Briney's voice cutting in every so often to answer questions or bark out carefully crafted and stinging words with the intent of inciting action instead of patience. Shay turned her gaze back to the sight and felt her stomach roiling once again. She wanted to look away, but it was as though she was staring at a car crash. It was a horrid sight, but she couldn't tear her gaze away, even when she wanted to. Instead of twisted metal and broken glass, she was staring at the bloodied and broken remains of fish.

Nothing seemed to move. Even the waters had turned glassy and somber, as though to commemorate the moment, and the winds had died down. Faye shuddered on Shay's shoulder.

"Not even pokémon can get this cruel," she muttered softly. Luna's ears twitched in the Taillow's direction and she yowled quietly, her tail sweeping in an agitated arc behind her.

"Not wild ones," the Skitty reminded Faye. "Trained pokémon, on the other hand…I'm sure you've seen how cruel they can become. Especially under a cruel trainer."

"Humans are garbage," Shay sighed in unfettered agreement, garnering a collective of boggled stares. She noticed the eyes on her and glanced at her team. Tired as she was, she felt her words growing sharp and defensive. "What? You think I'm going to pretend that we aren't? There's a severe power imbalance here. We make the rules, we make the machines and weapons that can do this, and even then, only the people who have power and money and influence get to weasel their way out of doing the time when they do the crime and continue doing shit like this. For your guys…you don't get much say, from what I've seen. And the same can be said for my world."

Shay shook her head, ducking her gaze. She remembered the news clips she'd listen to on the way to and from work, every day. It was hard to get angry when she wasn't allowed to. It was hard to be surprised when the same kind of news turns over with every cycle, every day. It was hard to remember what normal felt like when bad things kept happening and kept becoming the new "normal", even when you kept telling yourself, "This isn't normal. Don't make it normal."

It was hard staying angry when all it ever did was make you tired at the same time. Shay was feeling both twining around her, latching on tight and refusing to let go. She wanted to get angry at someone tangible and real, not faceless nobodies that seemed incorporeal and ethereal. She wanted to hit someone and make them pay for this, and yet, she also just wanted to sit down and let her insides settle down without the threat of purging.

"Believe me, where I come from, there's an even worse power balance. A handful of people in my country alone have more wealth than the bottom ninety-percent of the country, and even when they're accused of the most heinous of crimes, they weasel their way out of it, because they're the ones in power. And others who have power like them are too afraid to make a move against them because they're afraid of fucking up the status quo and getting kicked off their high horse themselves in the process. I guess it doesn't matter what world people occupy…we find a way to fuck things up. Especially for the natural world."

"But…you're not like that," Breela protested quietly. Shay was surprised at the little Shroomish's objection, out of everyone from her team. The Shroomish shivered, just as she was wont to do when plunged in social moments such as this. "You're nice and you actually care about us. You make sure we're all right and that we're fed and watered and we get enough sunlight."

Keno offered a thin, encouraging smile and it was infectious enough to make Shay feel one of her own tugging at the corners of her lips. It was something Shay felt wrenching at her heartstrings, and she wished she was worthy of such praise. She wished all people were worth that kind of praise and adoration, but she knew better. Even after only less than a year's worth of time in this world, she knew better. Human beings seemed to be the same, no matter what world they inhabited. It disheartened her at the same time and slowly, a little bit of her fell into the pit deep inside her.

"I mean…not all of us act like garbage fires. Some of us try to be better, but…" She waved a hand in circles, as though to try and conjure the right words, the perfect ones, to exemplify how she wanted to frame things. "Some people don't care about the world. Some only care about how much money and power they can accumulate, and…that means stepping on everyone else in their way who can't benefit them to get that. They don't care and even if you explain things to them, in detail, to try and appeal to them, it doesn't work. They're so disconnected from the world, it's pathetic when they try to pretend. It all ends up being about the bottom line and what's in it for them, specifically. If it doesn't benefit them in an immediate sense, then…fuck everyone and fuck the world. Let it burn, for all they care, so long as it doesn't touch them. But I guess it's a good thing other people care enough to stand up to them. As long as that happens…there's still hope."

She spat the words out like poison that needed to leave her system. They tasted bitter on her tongue as she spoke, and for a brief moment, she felt that spark of anger growing inside her. Casting a sidelong glance over the railing, she shuddered, anger and revulsion coiling around one another the longer she took in the details spread out before her. Fire slowly spread through her, sluggish and steady, but scorching regardless of its pace. Facing the slaughter before her, she didn't feel much hope, but she had to try, at the very least. As long there was hope, there was _something_.

"I just hope the fuckers who did this pay and whoever hired them gets caught too."

"Shay…something's out there."

Shay blinked and turned to Keno, the comment throwing her completely from her virulent train of thought. He was focused on something in the horizon beyond. It broke the glassy surface, sending ripples in all directions. Even in the dark, it was clear in the half-moon's light beyond the _Seafarer_ 's spotlight. Faye froze, turning stiff and alert on her shoulder. The others turned their attentions to the waters. Luna broke away from the group and prowl over, where the spotlight wasn't pointed.

"He's right. Something's over here," she reported sharp and concise, growling softly.

Something rocked the _Seafarer_ , thumping against the hull hard enough that it sent everyone rocking. Sela barked, gruff and startled as her paws scrabbled on the deck, maraschino eyes growing hot as coals with alertness as her canines sliced against one another. A spark of fire broke along the lines of her black lips. Her hackles stood at attention, tail flagged and crooked. Luna arched her back and slid away from the railing, yellow eyes flashing with annoyance while her ears flared back to plaster against her skull.

Shay stared out across the waters and began noticing how some of the bits and pieces of Magikarp were disappearing beneath the waters.

"Mister Briney, I think something's eating our evidence!"

A curse shot out in response from the bridge. Moments later, the burly man came barreling out, Peeko squawking up a storm, her long beak gaping with a hiss. Mister Briney threw himself against the railing, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the metal hard and tight.

"Damned Sharpedo! Only things that'll rightly eat a Magikarp around here!"

With another curse, he flew back into the bridge, barking a report of what was happening to the authorities before slipping back out. Before Shay could ask what it was they were going to do, he was diving down below deck. A cacophony of profanities, Peeko's shrill voice squealing about, and objects being thrown asunder reached her ears. She was startled when a long pole with a net was thrust upwards toward her, nearly colliding with her face. Shay fumbled with the pole and gawked as Mister Briney came back up top with a series of buckets gripped tightly in hand, along with another pole outfitted with a net at the end in the other.

"Help me gather up the poor beasts; least we can do is get some manner o' evidence as t' what did them in. Might help narrow down the machinery an' who carries it an' where."

Without another word, Mister Briney dumped the buckets along starboard wall and directed Shay to portside with her own series of buckets.

"An' be mindful! Those bloody Sharpedo will launch themselves up out o' the water like damned rockets an' take your head clean off if you stick it out too far!" Mister Briney barked out a warning, his words stressing every syllable in an effort to imprint just how dangerous things could get.

Shay set to work, fighting to keep whatever was in her stomach from hurtling upwards to join the mess that soon spilled across the deck. Bone shards, hardened scales, gore and gristle—anything that was still floating about on the surface that could be scooped up was done so. Breela wriggled in Keno's arms until he put her down. She promptly scampered away before the first bucket was even filled, hiding out in the bridge, where it was dark and cool and safe. Luna scuttled after the Shroomish, watching with her eyes aglow as the events played out.

Keno helped with the buckets, while Faye kept a sharp eye out for any movement and alerted Shay when something got too close. Sela padded along between Mister Briney and Shay, checking out the activity on both sides. Peeko, much like Faye, was remaining alert to the goings-on with her trainer's side of things and would bristle, fluff up, or squeal out when something wasn't right. He did not scold her or tell to her to hush; Mister Briney would pay rapt attention to his Wingull, taking pause when she grew agitated, or going back to work when she calmed.

On occasion, Shay would see a telltale triangular fin break the surface of the sea, sometimes a little too close for comfort, and would pause in her ministrations, mesmerized as she was afraid. before continuing her work. Blood rushed through her ears with a thundering roar, while the beat of her drumming away soon became the only thing she seemed feel and hear at the same time. The monotony of work was broken when Mister Briney would curse up a storm every so often, some of which Shay quietly tucked away for her own future use. She was, if anything, a productive enough learner when it came to creative expletives, and wasn't one to pass up the opportunity, no matter the grim circumstances that brought them forth.

Ambrose was the first to notice something amiss. He and Sela alike, in the interim of the gristly work set before them, had hovered just outside the safety of the bridge, just enough to be out of range from the mess on deck. Keno, in retrospect, remained adamantly beside Shay, helping move the empty buckets into range, and keeping an eye out for disturbances coiling along the sea's surface as she and Mister Briney worked.

Keno stared down at the little Ralts as he froze, stiff and unnatural in his countenance, a question on his lips. Ambrose shushed him with an impatient wag of a hand.

The initial shushing was what caught Shay's attention. She stopped dragging the net through the water and turned to stare at Ambrose. Keno caught her eye, just as curious as to what the Ralts was doing. Ambrose jolted suddenly, as though struck by an electrical current and he pointed a finger out.

"There's someone alive out there. He's hurt badly, but he's got a chance." A pause slipped between them, thin and straining and he tilted his head toward Shay, his voice growing tinny as he pressed urgently, "He's in so much pain, I…I feel like I'm the one hurting. Please. Please, get him out of there, before…"

Shay felt that jolt rushing through her just as quickly as though the current had passed into her, alert and stiff, the same as Ambrose. She scanned the waters in the direction the Ralts had motioned to until she saw it. A splash. It was small, but it was noticeable. And if she noticed it, than a predatory animal like a shark would soon hone in on it as well. She pivoted on her heel sharply.

When fish struggle, sharks notice. They were acutely attuned to such things and it was all thanks to the ampullae of Lorenzini. It hit her suddenly like a brick wall. If she remembered correctly, it was how sharks detected the electrical currents of other living beings in the ocean. It was how they tracked prey, stalked them, hunted them. Gel-like sensory organs that formed a network filled the pores of cartilaginous fish—including sharks, as well as rays and chimaeras—that gave these predatory creatures a hunting advantage. It was rather hard to shake the information from her mind, once it had latched on. It was one of the first things she ever learned of sharks as a child.

"Mister Briney, what are the chances of survivors in this mess?"

The older gent didn't answer at first, but he paused, wiping his brow with his sleeve, a frown tugging at his lips.

"It happens, but I rarely come across any. Why?"

She hesitated, reluctant to relay what Ambrose had said, before blurting, "I think I saw one of them moving. Splashing around out there."

Mister Briney opened his mouth, perhaps to argue her point, but when he noticed the pointed stares of her team. He was quick to close his mouth and nodded. "Show me."

She did, and Mister Briney clambered back to the spotlight, weaving it around until they found it. A Magikarp, alive but injured, weakly waggling in desperation to get away from the blood and gore of its brutalized school. The _Seafarer_ 's engine rumbled to life as he threw himself into the bridge and Mister Briney slowly inched the ship around closer toward the lone, struggling Magikarp.

"How good is yer aim, lass?" Mister Briney called over his shoulder.

"Yeah, how good's your throw?" Peeko echoed, dark eyes watching her pointedly. She stared at the Wingull and sailor alike, dumbfounded for an instant.

"Uhhhh…"

It took her a long several seconds to catch on to what he was implicating before it hit her. Shay dove for her pack, stored away in the bridge at Mister Briney's behest earlier in the evening, and brought forth an empty pokéball. He nodded to her over his shoulder, and she scrabbled out, nearly slipping on the slick surface of the deck. Something dark and glossy slid out of the spotlight's beam, but Shay recognized the shape of a pointed snout, a star painted across its crown, bright yellow and gleaming.

It hit her, quite suddenly, just how familiar it was to her.

It seemed like an eternity ago she had been viewing a news clip featuring a triangular snout with a starburst of gold against navy blue denticle-covered skin plastered to the skull, paired with set of gleaming crimson eyes…

At the time, she had dismissed it as a trick of the light, a fantasy brought on by an overly creative imagination borne of an artist, a writer, a dreamer. Now, she saw it as a stark truth bearing down on her with unrelenting harshness. Somehow, the red glow was even more disturbing than coal black eyes could ever be. There was intelligence here, sharp and unrelenting. These were predators coordinating their strikes more fully than simple predators relinquishing themselves to pure instinct.

Shay remained vigilant, the pokéball clutched tightly in her grip, as Mister Briney edged closer.

And yet…

And yet, she was waiting for the punchline. The moment where her hope was jerked out from beneath her. Just as she threw her pokéball, the Sharpedo lurking below would lurch forward, swallowing Magikarp and pokéball and all into its gullet, without mercy, without hope, and then all would be lost.

 _Aaaaand that's my imagination, running wild with itself, drunk on Hollywood's bittersweet expectations and twists,_ Shay thought to herself, trying to hold on to all hope, all expectations, all pieces of good luck and fortune as she threw the pokéball in her hand toward the besieged Magikarp, flailing helplessly and injured, slick with the blood of its schoolmates. The pokéball flew in a wobbly and imperfect arc, a simple sphere of red and white, out towards the struggling life that was now closer than she would have believed. Energy surged, encircling the Magikarp, captured it and brought it into its fold, and the pokéball was left in its wake, bobbing up and down in the seafoam. It wiggled, struggling as the Magikarp had done, until it grew still and final. Shay stared at it, briefly staggered by the finality of it all, before instinct lurched through her and she swept the pole to bridge the gap between her and pokéball. The net scooped it up and she pulled it in.

Her heart raced as the last few inches were drawing in, her stomach clenched tight with tension and urgency. Relief was a cool balm inching its way along, flooding through her system when the pokéball was almost within reach.

It all snapped away when the _Seafarer_ rocked violently, throwing Shay off her feet and flat on her back. The pole was ripped from her hand with as much ferocity and suddenness that it made her fingers and hand sing with aching pain once the shock faded. A sleek, dark body hung suspended in the air, the pole clenched in its jaws and the sound of bone scaping against metal was unnaturally loud. Stark triangular fins cut through the silhouette of the Sharpedo, giving it harsh and sharp angles that made it seem even crueler up close.

Red eyes glowered as the body hung there, as if it were floating before gravity finally, belatedly, began to take hold and drag the behemoth shark back into the dark depths from which it came.

Faye hissed in Shay's ear, rending through the unnatural silence and breaking the timpani drum-like mantra of Shay's heartbeat as it beat a tattoo against the back of her sternum, as though it were fighting its way up into her throat. The little Taillow sliced through the air, wings pumping with expertise afforded to feathered beings such as herself. The Sharpedo thrashed its massive head as it sank back down, great triangular teeth gnashing the pole in its jaws, slicing jagged cuts into the flimsy material. Faye zipped around the head before diving at a sharp angle and swung around just as the Sharpedo relinquished its hold on the pole to snap at the flighty little bird buzzing around its head.

The oceanic creature's grace in the water wasn't available to it as it bashed against the _Seafarer_ 's side and struggled to stay aloft in the air. Inch by inch, it was sinking back down, but it continued to gnash its jaws, and very nearly caught the little Taillow once or twice. Keno spattered it in the face with a well-aimed Water Gun when it got too close.

Sela growled, her hackles bristling upwards, but remained frozen where she stood, unable to break her gaze from the shark. Faye sluiced through the air, graceful and effortless, even when she made a final dive, nicking the Sharpedo on the nose with a wing as she did and rose upwards with a newly added load clutched in her talons. The Sharpedo eventually sank into the watery depths with a spray and a splash. It didn't reappear. It didn't try to leap onto the deck of the _Seafarer_ , much as Shay was expecting it. She finally released the breath she had been holding, slow and shaky and spent.

Once more, she had to train herself to not expect movie monster mania actions and had to keep that in mind. Sharpedo were still sharks. They were more intelligent than any in her world, but they weren't movie monsters. They were animals with higher learning. Surely, they would know better to back off.

But could they even speak, like the rest of the pokémon she'd come across? Could they be reasoned with? The silence had been so… _unnerving_. No talking, no grunts, no growls. Nothing.

Just pure, unadulterated instinct and menace perfected over millions of years of careful evolution that moulded them into the predatory machines they were today.

Faye fluttered to a halt, hovering before Shay and thrust the object at her trainer. Shay caught it on reflex, her breath coming out in shuddering but quiet gasps as she clutched the pokéball with the injured Magikarp in her hand. Faye settled back on her trainer's shoulder, as Mister Briney came to her side and helped the young woman up to her feet, scowling at the railing where the Sharpedo had disappeared behind. Keno grabbed hold of her arm, tiger-orange eyes glaring at the spot where the Sharpedo had disappeared, as if daring it to come back.

"Told ye, lass. Sharpedo aren't t' be trifled with an' shouldn't be taken lightly," he rumbled. He turned to her, checking her over, concern melting his harsh expression. "It didn't get ye, did it?"

Peeko shuffled nervously atop Mister Briney's shoulder, casting numerous looks over the Seafarer's railing, monitoring the waters. Fins occasionally sliced through the waters, reminding those aboard that the wolves of the sea were very much still around.

"No," she said, her voice small and quaky. Swallowing, she tried to garter herself and cleared her throat. Keno caught her eye and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. "No. Just…scared the shit out of me. Um…I'm sorry about your pole. The Sharpedo took it."

"An' nearly ripped yer bloody hand off in the process! I'm just glad t' see that yer all right, that's more important. I can get more equipment. Ye only get one set o' hands an' feet in yer life that wasn't made in a factory." With a pat on her shoulder, Mister Briney seemed more relaxed and relieved knowing that Shay wasn't hurt. He cast a pointed look down at the pokéball still clutched in her hand, worry once more bleeding into his countenance.

"We'd best get out of here. I have t' file a report with the proper authorities down in Dewford, an' they'll need what we've gathered fer further analysis." With another pointed look, he motioned to the pokéball in Shay's hands. "An' we'll need t' get that poor wee beastie t' the Center as soon as possible."

The older man shuffled off to gather the buckets and stored them below deck before hurrying to the bridge.

Keno glued himself to Shay's side, doubling down on Mister Briney's earlier inquiries about how she was, and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Sela pressed tightly against her, quiet and stiff. Breela came shuffling out from the bridge and without prompting, Shay picked up the Shroomish, and felt strangely comforted with holding her.

Shay reassured her team that she was fine, even when her hands were still shaking, and what felt like a block of ice had settled in the pit of her stomach and spread its coldness out into her limbs. She made it a point to remain well away from the edges of the railing, and eventually found herself in the bridge, watching as the dark of the sky and sea blurring together until an even darker shadow began to spread on the horizon.

Within the hour, they were curling around Dewford's northern shores and slung around to the east. Lights twinkled in the dark shape that was Dewford, small and clustered tightly together. The warm yellow glow of the streetlights was welcoming and a sight for sore eyes.

The authorities were waiting for them on the docks. Mister Briney patted Shay on the shoulder, assuring her that he'd handle the entire mess. When she hitched up her pack back onto her shoulders and slipped down onto the dock, one of the men donning a uniform tried to pull her aside, citing that she'd need to answer some questions. Mister Briney came to her rescue, not-so-subtly inserting himself between her and the officer.

"She's got nothin' t' do with this. I was giving her passage t' Dewford, an' she helped collect some of the poor beasties up. That's the extent o' it all."

"Regardless, sir, she still needs to answer some questions—"

"She has t' get her team to the center. We were waylaid by a pack o' Sharpedos while we were working, an' one o' her members were injured, an' needs to get to the Pokémon Center. You wouldn't want to have the death of a pokémon on your hands, would you?"

His tone was sly and conniving, as though daring the young man to continue arguing with the salty sailor. The officer hesitated, and just for a moment, Shay _almost_ felt bad for him. Finally, he relented and waved her off. Mister Briney waited until the officer stalked off to confide with the others, before turning with a wink to Shay and shooed her away.

"Just head up the main road, an' it'll be about two blocks down. Ye can't miss it, lass. One o' the larger buildings here on Dewford."

With a wave of the hand, Shay knew a dismissal when she heard it and quickly left the docks. The streets were scarce of people, but there wasn't a shortage of pokémon prowling about. They left her alone, only curiously watching as she passed by before returning to their nocturnal activities.

"I seem to be a magnet for trouble," Shay mumbled as they edged out the last of their journey, the Pokémon Center dead ahead. Cheerful and warm yellow light spilled out from its glassy skin, enveloping the immediate surrounding area. Shay was already feeling better just by looking at the exterior of the Center as they approached the front doors. They slid open with a soft pneumatic hum, as if to say that she was welcome and safe now.

That was a funny thing she hadn't really expected and yet welcomed all the same. All the Pokémon Centers she'd been at all retained that soft and comfortable warmth. They seemed to say, "you're all right now," as soon as a gaze was swept over them. It was a wonderful trick and one that Shay was comfortable with experiencing at any moment. It was almost— _almost_ —like finishing that last leg of a long run, a sight that said she was almost done, she just had to work off that last pesky part and she'd be all right afterwards.

The nurse at the front desk took one look at Shay and jumped, eyes going wide and mouth gaping open.

"What in the hell happened to you?"

Her words were loud enough to garner the looks from a few Chansey donning nursing caps, and they came to a sudden halt, whispering to one another. Sela growled at Shay's side, while Faye puffed out her feathers in annoyance. Breela shook in Shay's arm.

"Mister Briney—"

" _Mister Briney_ did this to you?" The nurse exclaimed, aghast as surprise and alarm rang in her tone of voice. Shay nearly choked on her laugh and it came out strangled and shrill. Christ, she was _tired_.

"No! No, no, no. He was giving me a ride here, and we…well, there was a whole school of Magikarp…"

"A _school of Magikarp_ did this to you?" This time, it was uncertainty that lined her tone.

"I wish she'd shut up long enough to listen," Sela snorted beside Shay, her growling evening out to a low rumble.

Shay couldn't help but agree, and sighed, shaking her head at the woman. "The school was massacred. Mister Briney's talking with the authorities right now, said that it looked like an illegal fishing operation that chummed them up. I was helping collect evidence."

Understanding lit up in the woman's watery blue eyes and she leaned back in her seat, a hand sliding up to cover her mouth.

"Oh, yes. We've been having issues with fishermen casting their nets out around here, trying to slough through for rarer pokémon. Some are endangered and are under protection from fishing operations, and yet…"

"And yet people with money think themselves exempt from the rules."

The woman sighed. "Well, yes there's that and a few other factors piled up on top of that." With an appraising yet curious look over Shay, her lips ticked downwards. "What in the hell happened?"

"Sharpedo," Shay simply said, and once more, the light of understanding flickered in the woman's eyes.

"Oh, Arceus. They usually don't live around here, but I'm sure the smell of blood drew them over. We usually only get Tentacool and Tentacruel skimming the surface of the waters. Sharpedo can get real nasty real quick if you aren't careful."

With a few more niceties passed around, Shay presented the pokéball with the injured Magikarp to the nurse. She took it quickly and turned to one of the Chanseys lingering by the desk.

"Please take this pokémon to urgent care, quickly now!"

"Wait—what can I do?" Shay jumped, alarmed, as she nearly threw herself up and over the desk, watching as the Chansey trotted off on quick-tempered paws, moving with surprising grace for a creature of its size. The nurse turned to Shay with a soft and reassuring smile, patting the young woman's hand.

"I'm sorry, but all you can do is wait. It might be a few hours, but we'll do our best to save your pokémon and keep it stabilized."

The words _'your pokémon'_ struck a chord with Shay and it actually hit her in the full that she had caught a Magikarp. She stared after the woman as she trotted off to follow after the Chansey that had taken her pokémon out to urgent care.

And all she could do was wait and see what would happen.

Shortly, another nurse came to the desk, and helped Shay get checked in, and promised they'd phone in the status of her pokémon once they were finished. With a pause, she added helpfully after looking Shay over, "And we can get your clothes cleaned up, if you bag it and set it outside your room. We'll have them back to you by morning."

After that, she was handed a card key and off they went to the second floor, where her room was.

"I _hate_ waiting," Shay said quietly as she came up on her room door, tension lining the curve of her jaw and all she could was clench it until it ached, tight and painful. Waiting around, doing nothing…it made her feel completely useless. Hopeless and helpless. Keno patted her back in quiet agreement.

"He'll make it," he said quietly, assuring. Luna slipped past the Marshtomp and immediately made a beeline for the bed.

"He was strong enough to survive that slaughter," the Skitty said in agreement, her tail flicking across the flat terrain of the made bedspread. Her eyes were half-lidded but glittered with quiet praise. "I'm sure he'll make it. I know it must be hard, but you need to have some patience. Rushing things will only make it worse."

"He needs rest," Breela added quietly. "And so do we."

There was a murmur of agreement that rippled unanimously from the rest of the team. Keno patted her arm and nodded toward the bed. "They're right, you know. I know it's not fun waiting, but things will be okay."

Shay hesitated, but her pause was short-lived as enervation slowly began to settle in her bones, weighing her down. Reluctantly, she dropped her pack and her shoulders throbbed at the merciful lack of heft digging into them. Slowly, Shay changed her clothes and, just as the nurse had instructed, put her clothes in a laundry bag provided with the room and set it outside the door in the hallway. Returning back into the comfort of the room, Shay ambled over to the bed and slid under the covers, her team curling in close. It took time for sleep to come to her, and even then, only in small fits. She kept waking randomly throughout the night, unable to stay asleep for more than an hour or two at a time.

By the time she finally managed to fall into deeper sleep, the phone rang its siren call, jerking her out of her restless slumber. Tiredly, she fumbled with the receiver and brought it to her ear, slurring out a graceless, "hullo?"

"Miss Kenway?"

Shay drew the phone away from her ear, startled at how loud the voice on the other end was. She kept it at least three inches from her head, but tilted the mouthpiece closer and said, "Uh, yeah. This is she."

"Hi, this is the front desk from downstairs, my name is Becca Leeds, I'm one of the nurses on duty. I'm calling to let you know the status of your Magikarp."

Shay immediately sat up straighter and was wide awake, all exhaustion chased away by that single sentence. "Is he okay?"

"Your Magikarp is fine for now, it's stabilized. It was a really close call, but we managed to repair the damage done to it. It looks like a machine made for chumming was the culprit, but by some miracle, your Magikarp didn't suffer too badly, and the blades missed vital organs. It's mostly superficial damage, but it did lose quite a bit of blood, that's why it was so weak. Well, weaker than usual." A cheery, bell-like laugh sounded off on the other side, as though the joke was well-timed. Annoyance filtered through Shay's core, her humour withering completely at the woman's joke. "Anyway, you can pick your Magikarp up in a few hours, after it's finished its course of meds."

Shay checked the time on the clock beside the bed and saw that it was a few hours shy of breakfast time. She slumped back against the headboard and thanked the nurse, putting the receiver back into its cradle.

"See?" A voice said softly in the dark, thin as a crescent moon in a clear sky. Shay jumped and saw a flicker of night shine flashing at her. Luna purred, getting up to her paws and stretching. Quietly, she drew herself up to Shay and clambered into the woman's lap. She was heavy but warm and the purrs sent a pleasant vibration coursing through Shay. She ran a hand over the Skitty's back and slid back down the bed to lay down. "I told you he'd be fine."

Shay hummed quietly back, eyes sliding closed. When she woke up next, morning light was peeking into the room, pale and soft, and she felt more rested from those last few hours than she had from the entire evening before.

* * *

 _ **Additional Notes:**_ **If you enjoy mermaid horror, then you'll enjoy shark horror as well, and I can't help but plug in Steve Alten's** _ **Meg**_ **series. The film doesn't compete with the novel series, honestly. I'll admit, Jason Statham is good advertisement, and he does wonderful for the film—but the novel is a completely different beast. All in all, Mira Grant and Steve Alten have it made in the deep dive of deep-sea horror.**

 **If you don't believe me, give them a try~!**

 **As always, please give a shout out in the review box, I'd love to hear from y'all! And thank you again to my lovely reviewers who have said hello! You guys are simply the best!**

 **Lastly, next weekend, I might lapse in an update because its my baby girl's birthday and the entire weekend is blocked out. I'll attempt to get the next chapter posted the following Monday if I don't hit it on Sunday. Thank you for your patience and understanding!**


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Broken Doors

**Chapter Eighteen:  
** **Broken Doors**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: Quite a bit goes on in this chapter and it definitely exceeded my projected lengths, but I'm rather fond of a lot that is established. Thank you to everyone who has put a notice on this story to watch it! I can't believe how many people it's been seen by; I just hope to hear from y'all soon!**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

 **Badges Won** **: Stone Badge**

* * *

" _The broken doors are open—come and enter and be home. My darling girl, be careful now, and don't go out alone."  
_ **—" _Don't Go Out Alone_ " Simone Kimberly; exerpt of "** _ **Parasite**_ **" by Mira Grant**

* * *

" _What in the hell happened to your face?_ "

Braced, and yet not entirely prepared for the conversation, Shay kept from wincing at the harsh voice barking at her from the screen. Norman's usually cool demeanor was broken, laced through with disbelief, his jaw clicked open with an aghast light faintly striking his gaze as he stared, words momentarily at a halt after his initial remark.

Shay expelled a long breath she had been holding ever since she began the call and managed a feeble, if snarky, smile to alight her features.

"I thought I'd jump into the ring and throw a few punches during my gym battle alongside my team. If you think I look bad, you should see the other guys."

Norma didn't laugh, because of course he didn't. He continued to stare her down with that steely gaze of his, jaw tight and lined with tension. It was as though he was holding back any form of dissenting commentary and was instead reduced to waiting for Shay to come out with a more honest answer. She caved, her smile dipping away awkwardly, unnerved by the gaze he pinned her down with through the screen.

"Team Aqua," she relented after the tension drew on for longer than she was comfortable with. Norman promptly let loose a series of expletives, half of which were lost as he shielded his face behind his broad hand and mumbled them into the palm of it. Shay jumped, startled, when he slammed a fist down on his desk and the sharp report rang through the audio like a crack of thunder.

" _I swear, Steven had better be getting a damn handle on these people. This is getting out of control. We've had reports of thefts popping up all across the region from these people, and now they're assaulting people in broad daylight!_ " Norman, upon remembering he was on a video call, returned his attentions back to Shay. " _This is getting too dangerous for you. You're coming back to Littleroot._ "

Shay snapped on principle as much as she did on instinct. "The hell I am, I'm just getting started! Norman, I'm fine. It looks worse than it actually is. I'm _fine_."

" _You're not '_ fine' _,_ " Norman argued back as he pointed at the screen, indicating to the screen, and more than likely, her face. " _Half of your face is stitched up and the other half is a bruised pulp. How did it even happen?_ "

She hesitated, and this time she did wince. She shot a glance at Keno sitting beside her in the booth, and he gave her a little nod of encouragement. She sighed, turning back to the screen, and she told him. She related the incident in Petalburg Woods, the scientist she helped, her gym battle with Roxanne after a few weeks of training with her team, and the subsequent thievery—from the same Team Aqua member, no less—and everything afterwards.

Norman listened quietly, to his credit, and barely spoke. The only time he did interject was to ask for Shay to clarify one thing or another, but otherwise, he remained silent and attentive. Shay wrapped everything up with the incident she and Mister Briney encountered on their way to Dewford. After that, she lapsed into silence, waiting for Norman to speak up.

The rest of the Dewford Pokémon Center was relatively quiet around her, and beyond the video conference rooms. There was the pitter-patter of shoes and paws alike trekking around the front lobby, accompanied by the low murmur of voices, the occasional PA announcement, and the very dim sound of a television broadcasting the news playing. Phones rang on occasion. Doors slid open with hushed pneumatic hisses. The chatter seemed larger than normal, but it had taken Shay a long while to realize it was because she was hearing pokémon talking as much as she was hearing human beings speaking. The noise of it all had doubled since she arrived in Hoenn. Sometimes, it felt overwhelming with just how much noise there was.

Sometimes, it was a relief getting away from everyone except her team. Her head didn't hurt quite as much when it was just them.

When Norman finally chose to address her, his words were measured, calm. Practiced, even.

" _I understand if you feel that you need to continue, but you have to understand that this is becoming dangerous, even for you! There has to be some other way for you to—_ "

"—to _what_ , Norman? You want me to come back, and-and-and—what, exactly? Sit around, watching television all day, waiting and hoping for things to get better on their own? I'm not a ten-year-old child, I'm a grown-ass woman and I don't appreciate how you're trying to punt me into the corner like it's time-out!"

" _You wouldn't be sitting around, doing nothing, you'd have a job working for Birch. Honestly, I wouldn't let you sit around alone like that, and you would have your team with you_."

Heated anger began to bloom inside her, white-hot and boiling, feeding her temper. Panic was also beginning to settle in, and she could see all her plans crumbling before they could even be realized. Getting home suddenly felt about as impossible as trying to make it to the moon without a rocket or space suit to utilize. It was a volatile and destructive combination, panic and anger, when they were paired off together.

"No. _No_ , you are not taking me out, not when I just _started_! I _won_ the Stone Badge, and I'm already in Dewford Town, and we're getting ready to train for the Knuckle Badge." Desperation scrabbled at her insides, and it hurt trying to breathe, to push past the tightening in her throat and vice-like grip crushing her chest. It almost burned with every effort, and she was reduced to taking in deep, long and slow sips of breath to keep herself from hyperventilating. Keno shuffled beside her, quietly asking if she was all right, a hand gently clasping her arm in concern. The small notion of support helped bolster and calm her all at once.

"Norman— _please_. If you think Steven is going to do anything in the immediate and foreseeable future to set things right, that he has a plan to send me and anyone else like me back home, then…I'll come back, without a fuss. But if you know he doesn't, if you know he's too busy or concerned with other things to be bothered in doing what needs to be done to get everyone back where they belong—and that means going to Sinnoh to help fix what's been going on over there—then I'm staying where I am, because I don't plan on sitting around. I don't plan on twiddling my thumbs, waiting for someone else to get off their ass to do something if I'm already out here, trying to work towards that."

Norman seemed to consider this and didn't offer anything in return for nearly a whole minute. She could see he was working through all that she had said, and perhaps was trying to think of some way to talk her down, to convince her to come back on her own. His expression slowly, yet surely, seemed to collapse in on itself and he gave a reluctant nod.

" _Fine. All right. Here's the deal. You avoid any activity that even suggests Team Aqua is in the area. You hightail it out of there—and I don't care what you were where you came from, or how trained you were. If you want to make it home in one piece, I suggest you avoid these bastards._ "Norman's gaze sought hers out and when their eyes locked, Shay froze in place, unable to look away, let alone move. Norman studied her face, as if committing to memory the injuries she'd sustained." _If you cross paths with them again, that's it. You're coming back here, whether you like it or not. We still don't know what they're planning, and it would be in everyone's best interests if the proper authorities handled things."_

It was a tentative truce, and one Shay wasn't willing to jeopardize. Numbly, she nodded in quiet agreement, her victory not quite having sunk in just yet. Norman sighed, his nostrils flaring as he did, and a ghost of a smile flickered across his face. Brief, but noticeable.

" _And, I suppose, if Mister Stone of Devon Corporation wants his equipment to reach its intended recipient, it'd be better if he went with his original courier instead of having to scramble for another. He pays his employees quite handsomely, I hear._ "

The iron bands that had coiled around her lungs seemed to slowly loosen and she could breathe again. She nodded again, shaky and yet cautiously hopeful. Keno seemed to have been doing the same; holding his breath in a similarly collective manner, waiting for the tension to unspool. The hand on her arm squeezed in that quiet, encouraging manner. Shay reached for his broad hand with her other and squeezed it back.

Norman nodded to her. " _Go. Train. And please…be careful. I want to see you get home, safe and sound, as much as you want to._ " A pause. " _And…please make sure you call a bit more often, and don't forget you need to contact Professor Birch as well. He keeps nagging me about your reports._ "

A flicker of an amused smile traced his lips, mirth scattering in his gaze before he quietly bid her goodbye. The screen winked off and went black.

"He…he's letting us stay." Keno said, his voice warily enlightened by the finality of things.

Shay bobbed her head, and carefully pried herself up from the seat on unsteady legs. The argument kept playing in her head, over and over again. Even though she had won—narrowly, by the skin of her teeth—she felt like it had been too close a call. Norman was a goddamn gym leader and the immensity of his position was starting to come to her like a horrible epiphany; he had a lot of sway and power, enough that he could call up a few people for a favour and have them drag her back to Littleroot.

"But we have to stay away from Team Aqua. How are we going to do that if they keep popping up everywhere we end up going to?"

Instantly, the answer came to her, without hesitation, without prompting. "We don't tell him if that happens."

She knew where and when they would pop up, and unfortunately, it would be in many places they would be heading for. It was inevitable and it was idiotic to pretend otherwise.

"Isn't that…lying?" Keno, with all his salamander-like qualities, could be more expressive than any salamander Shay knew about. His lips drew downwards in a visible frown and his brow puckered together in a quizzical fashion as he stared up at his trainer.

"Oh, my sweet summer child…yes. Yes, it is." Shay heaved a longer, heavier breath outwards, and the weight of her answer was settling on her shoulders, even as the tension that riddled her chest cavity finally appeared to be lifting completely and she could breathe in full. "Look…I get Norman wants to make sure I don't get hurt or end up dead. But…that's a risk we have to take, if we want to make it to the top, isn't it?"

Keno took pause, looking torn between wanting to remain honest with Norman, and wanting to remain loyal to Shay. He knew that the man had helped Shay when she had nowhere else to turn to. If it hadn't been for him, Shay would never have come to Professor Birch's lab, and she would have never met him. His kindness borne of a strange situation had been the catalyst that allowed them to come together.

And yet…he still felt as though Norman, good intentions aside, was wrong on this matter. If they gave up now, if they went back to Littleroot with their tails tucked between their legs, that would mean Shay wouldn't get to go home. He would never go beyond Littleroot again. The entire team would be cheated of their chances in going all the way to the top and coming out as champions. In make sure Shay could get home and see her family and old life again.

Reluctantly, he nodded. Shay noticed his hesitance and her expression cracked.

"I…I know that lying isn't always great and Norman…he cares. I get that. But…if we don't do this…it isn't just me that won't get home. There are others out there in the world somewhere, just like me, who have no idea what happened to them, or why, or how. And the Creation Trio in Sinnoh are the only ones who can fix this mess. If the people in Sinnoh can't stop them, then we should be able to help and do that for them."

"And the only way we can do that is if we grow stronger, together." Keno finished glumly, his external gills drooping down low. Shay made a soft noise and before he knew it, she was down on her knees, hugging him tight.

"I know, I know, _I know_. It's all fucked up. I don't want to lie. I really don't. But we can't give up. We just got started."

Lying wasn't really all that rare in the Marine Corps, especially with the juniors and their immediate Corporals and Sergeants in charge of them. She's seen her fellow NCOs lie their collective asses off as much as they could to protect their juniors and peers from the higher ups and clean up the messes made on their own levels before anyone could catch wind. She's also seen others turn petty as all hell and sell out everyone and practically their own mothers to protect their asses and gather personal gain.

She learned from both ends of the spectrum and promised herself as a junior Marine on the cusp of promotion that she'd never be a sellout to those under her charge, not if she could help it, not if she had the power to help someone better themselves. She was deciding this just as much then as she was now, and realized her position: she was an NCO, and her team were her junior Marines. Norman was the SNCO, who answered to the CO that was Steven Stone. The chain of command was a beast she had to best, and not just through sheer force of will but through smarts as well.

They hung there for a while, suspended in the moment, before Keno slowly pulled away and Shay reluctantly did the same. He offered a half-smile to her.

"We'll try to avoid those Team Aqua jerks, and if we can't…we'll either not tell him or lie about it. And we'll fix things when we win the League Challenge."

"You're a fucking awesome dude, you know that?" Shay's laughter bubbled out, soft and quiet. Keno's smile grew wider.

"I know. I try so hard to maintain the image of awesome, but it's so much work!"

That elicited another round of laughter from his trainer and it felt good to hear her laughing. He didn't like seeing the scrabbling desperation painted on her face, the wild anger that looked ready to fly out when Norman had threatened to bring her back to Littleroot.

Norman was right, on the one hand, about Team Aqua. They were dangerous, and Shay had to be careful. But he also knew Shay was right in that they couldn't just flee at the first sign of trouble and run back home.

Nobody would grow, become stronger, and eventually gain the title of Champion if everyone did that, now would they?

* * *

Dewford Town was a quaint little place, and much of everything was within walking distance, not unlike Littleroot Town. It was a bit larger than Littleroot, with its population nearing close to a thousand people, whereas Littleroot was home to a meager several hundred. A majority of the roads were paved or laid down with boardwalks, and there were a sizeable number of people who owned vehicles—but it seemed as though they didn't see much use, and people ended up either walking or biking.

There were only a few large buildings that stood out, with the Pokémon Center being one of them, the Pokémon Mart being another, a few choice businesses, several hotels, and of course, the Dewford Town Gym.

Shortly after Shay had called Norman up, she returned to the front lobby to check on her newly acquired Magikarp. The nurse on duty at the front desk called someone from the back, and a man wearing scrubs came to collect her. His nametape read _'DJ'_ and nothing more. He was not much taller than her, perhaps only by half a foot. His hair was mousy-brown and slightly mussed, but kempt enough. He smiled, hazel eyes crinkling at the corners as he regarded Shay. All in all, he was moderately handsome, but not outstanding enough that she could pick him out of a crowd if it really mattered.

"Your Magikarp is doing really well. It's a good thing you caught it when you did. Any longer, and it would have been chow for something else out there in the water," DJ remarked as he led her through a pair of doors and into a hallway. It was quiet, the hush of the hospital and urgent care rooms feeling muted by the empty halls. Even their footsteps were oddly quieter than usual, and the air had a chill that drew goosebumps to prickle along Shay's exposed arms. Faintly, the air smelled of disinfectant, bleach, and other materials Shay couldn't bring a name to yet still felt clinical above all else. Keno padded along beside her, craning his head to glance into open, and more often than not, empty rooms. Some were closed, and behind them, muffled voices played out, some of them overlapping with one another.

The nurse turned a corner and when they came to the third door on the left, he led her into a recovery room.

The lights in the ceiling were dimmed, and at the back of the room sat a large fish tank that took up much of the opposing wall and its lights provided enough to see by. The hum of a filter and dribble of water pouring in on itself filled the silence. There were different bits of coral—mushrooms, sea fans, polyps—creating nooks and crannies and bits of seaweed danced upright, while small smudges of algae built up in the far corners of the tank. A few pieces of pale anemone had their tendrils blowing softly with the tank's current. Interestingly enough, there were quite a number of fish she recognized: different species of tangs, damselfish, a goby here and there, several clownfish, butterfly fish, a dottyback or two, and several saltwater shrimps scuttled in and out of the living rock, and along the sandy bottom of the tank. The fish curled around the living rocks or darted in and out of the alcoves and crevices.

It struck her, hard and sudden, with just how much it reminded her of the salt water fish tank her parents had in their house. She had grown up with it, and her stepfather had even once reared a number of small sharks and eels when she had been so much younger and smaller. She had even found photographic evidence of how much her stepdad seemed to emulate Steve Irwin growing up, in that he had gone swimming in one of his old shark tanks. She also had a picture of him with a caught baby rattlesnake he had apparently jumped out of a moving car to snatch up—both to move it out the dog park he caught it in to reduce chances of an accident with someone, as well as for the photo opportunity. She still had that picture somewhere on her phone, and the message her mother had sent her of it.

Keno gently nudged her and drew her from her thoughts before she could delve too deeply into them and motioned to the movement of something larger in the tank. Her eyes were drawn to the iridescent scales and the flexing, muscular body that they were attached to very quickly as it came into view. The Magikarp slid around the coral and anemone, gliding around the tank slowly, and it was almost reminiscent of, strangely enough, a koi fish. A very large koi fish and larger than any she's personally seen before, but a koi fish regardless. The Magikarp wasn't squashed up and bulky like in the game art, but it did have some girth to it. It was certainly larger than any of the fish in the tank to the point that it was almost comical. The dorsal fin flexed, rising and falling accordingly, the pectoral fins adjusting it, and its caudal fin propelled it right along.

The Magikarp certainly didn't seem to belong in a tank this small, no matter if it could fit or not. It needed to be in a larger one, with fish of equal size to it. She was almost sure of that.

Then there was the matter of its colour. The orange of the Magikarp's scales weren't blatantly eye-searing, even under the lighting of the tank. The scales flashed and shimmered, marigold in flashes of the light at the right angle and the blaze of fire in others, with splashes of flecked honey-gold here and there.

Curiosity borne of an artist made her yearn for the brightness of the sun and how it would reflect off those lustrous scales. Shay could see, however, discolouration tracing a trail across its scales in an uneven and jagged, line across its body. The scales even seemed to bow inwards and give way to the scarring that would later heal in full to the damage it had once suffered. Whatever the personnel had done to help, it was enough to accelerate the healing process.

"Your Magikarp is kind of on the small side, so we didn't use some of the larger tanks. We usually have to reserve the thousand-gallon tanks for Magikarp, but yours fits fine in the five hundred one."

The news surprised her. If this Magikarp was considered small, she wondered how large the ones of its fellow schoolmates had been before they had suffered such an untimely demise. The Magikarp gave pause near the barrier of the tank's glass, its large eyes staring out at the world beyond it and at the two human beings who were watching it. DJ turned to Shay, relief stark and plain across his face as he said, "It really pulled through; I'm just glad it didn't suffer any more damage."

"Me too. I'm just sorry that the whole school had to suffer. Mister Briney and I…we were there in the aftermath, and then a bunch of Sharpedo came while we were working to preserve some of the…evidence." Shay shuddered. DJ frowned and shuffled on the spot for a moment as he cleared his throat.

"I'm…I'm sorry to hear that. I've heard about the uptick in unregulated fishing that's been seeking out rarer species of oceanic wildlife lately. Every time they end up with a population of the more common species, they don't just release them, they chum them up and dump the mess behind. I think it's an effort to draw out the others, and it's been throwing off the way the ecosystems are supposed to be working. Overfishing, attempts at elimination of whole species, destruction of coral reefs, pollution, waste dumps…"

He shook on the spot, as though trying to suppress anger that was simmering from within, before giving a shake of the head. He expelled a hot breath through flared nostrils.

"Sorry, it's just…things like this have become more commonplace in the last several years, there seems to be a lack of interest from the main media and society in general here in Hoenn and honestly, it's no wonder a group like Team Aqua rose up in protest of things."

The name left a sour taste and a hard lump in Shay's mouth and throat as she glanced at DJ.

"You _can't_ be serious. I've had run-ins with those jackweeds. They tried to beat the shit out of two separate employees of Devon Corporation barely three weeks apart from one another. They tried stealing the work those people had on them, and then on top of it, tried to steal and then kill Mister Briney's Wingull!"

"Wait, what? They tried to steal Peeko? No way. That…no, that can't be true. You…you must be mistaken." DJ frowned at her, doubt creeping over his countenance.

Shay scowled and pointed at her face. " _This_ is what happened when I went after Peeko. I know what I saw, and it was one of those jackasses, dressed up like a Hot Topic pirate reject. If you don't believe me, ask Mister Briney the next time he comes into the Pokémon Center."

DJ looked on, ever doubtful, and seemed to be debating on whether or not he wished to take the conversation further. Instead, he shook his head once more, and motioned to the Magikarp watching them.

"I know we said that you could pick up your Magikarp now, but we wish to keep it here for at least another half day for observation, to make sure the reparations we did take well for a long-term period of time. It should be good to go by the end of the day, but…" DJ trailed off and gave a meaningful glance at the full belt of pokéballs on Shay's hip. "It does look like you already have a full house. Unless you want to box one of your current members in place of the Magikarp."

Reservation crept into his voice as he glanced at the large fish pokémon swimming around the tank.

"I think, at a later date, I'll definitely have him tag along," Shay replied carefully, averting her gaze to the tank as well. A wry smile played at her lips. "And his name will be Nux from now on, so please make sure his charts are updated."

"Nux? What kind of a name…you know what, it's not any of my business. I've heard weirder. Nux it is."

* * *

Paperwork was something that rarely, if ever, came up in the games. And yet, paperwork was something Shay had come to face since her indoctrination into this world; oodles of it. DJ led her back to the front, and the front desk nurse brought up series of forms—release of pokémon to owner after a period of observation; agreement to relinquish any form of retaliation and future liabilities of the facility if her pokémon suffered an untimely death on the premises in spite of attempts to save its limb or life; and several others that Shay skimmed through or barely read at all. It all seemed to blur together after a certain point.

She finished the pile off on the clipboard and brought it back to the front desk. The nurse on duty smiled at her as she took the papers.

"Thanks, Miss Kenway. You should be able to pick up Nux later on this evening. Is there anything else that you need?"

"Um…yeah. I was charged by Mister Stone, over at Devon Corporation, to deliver something to his son, Steven Stone. It seemed really important that I get it to him, and he said that Dewford Town was his last known location. Is Steven Stone staying here at the Center, by any chance?"

The nurse stared at her, wide-eyed and caught off guard by the inquiry.

"Oh, Champion Steven's in Dewford? I hadn't realized! I can check that, just give me a sec…"

The woman turned to the computer screen sitting on her desk, eyes darting across as she tapped in a few key commands. She mumbled to herself quietly, clicking the mouse a few times and scrolling through, before a bemused look crossed her features. Turning back to Shay, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't see him in the system. He must be staying in one of the local hotels out in town. There's only a few, but I can give you directions to each of them, if you'd like."

Shay thanked the woman and accepted her help. Almost ten minutes later, Shay was clutching a small piece of paper ripped from the desk pad with hastily scrawled addresses written upon it. Keno strolled along at her side. Before she even started down the street after leaving the cool comfort of the Center, Shay released the rest of the team. Keno quickly picked up Breela as she came to huddle beside him, and Faye took up residence on Shay's shoulder. The little Taillow glanced at the paper clenched in her trainer's hand and gently rubbed Shay's cheek with her beak.

"What's this?"

"Directions to a few places in town," Shay replied. Ambrose crossed his arms, head cocking to the side.

"I'm guessing it has to do with Steven Stone, the Champion?"

"What? The Champion?" Luna said before rolling into a back-curving stretch, a yawn escaping her maw. "Why are we bothering with him now? None of us would stand a chance against him, would we?"

Shay shook her head and motioned for them to start moving. Sela settled on Shay's other side, while Luna trotted in and out of place between the others. Ambrose shuffled along on Keno's other side.

"Is it because of that meeting you had with that man at Devon a few days ago?" Breela queried. Keno glanced down at the Shroomish in his arms.

"It is," Shay confirmed with a nod. "He's the company head and president of Devon Corporation, and he's paying a rather pretty penny for us to deliver a letter to Steven."

She suspected where she might have to go, and the familiar itch-shiver-scratch of Ambrose slide across the back of her mind; amused and fleeting, before he retreated. A chill swept down from the back of her skull to the base of her spine. "The nurse was kind enough to point us in the direction of a few potential hotels that might be hosting him, but—"

"—but she warned you that they might protect him and his privacy, because they wouldn't want to be responsible for sending nutjobs after the Champion with intentions of harm." Ambrose smoothly interjected, much to the surprise and chagrin of the others. Sela a snotty sort of snarl as she regarded the little Ralts, eyes gleaming.

"Stop reading minds, would you?"

"The day I stop being able to read others' minds is the day I will be able to read yours, Sela." Ambrose said cheekily, a flash of fangs poking out as he grinned in Sela's direction. "Until that day, I think I'll keep skimming along."

"Ambrose, you really shouldn't. People and pokémon tend to like their privacy." Keno chided with a disapproving glance.

"And you think I want to hear the thoughts and feelings of everyone around me, practically unfiltered as they crash against my mind, day in and day out? I think not, but I can't help but feel and hear them all the same. It's how my kind work, Keno. Just like your kind tend to exude a thin film of mucus to keep yourself from drying out completely, or Faye's kind take to the skies with their wings."

Shay sighed quietly as the argument played through, eventually tuning it out while they continued their trek across Dewford to the first closest hotel. The concierge at the front desk greeted them warmly enough as she entered the lobby, although he did eye the entirety of Shay's team out with mild distaste. As soon as Shay began in on why she was there, his warm façade faded rather quickly and he became a brick wall, essentially. His words became terse and monosyllabic before he stiffly dismissed her.

She left, appearing dejected, before turning to Ambrose expectantly. The Ralts drew himself up. "Steven Stone is not here. The concierge hasn't housed him here before, and it drives him insane, but I'm sure he'll be calling around to see where it is he is currently holed up at within the hour."

Shay quietly thanked him, then took a pen from her sling-pack, and crossed off the hotel they had just checked from the list. Three more to go.

It took them a good hour and a half to trace a path through the whole of Dewford to the remaining places on the list. The second place reacted in much the same manner as the first had—false warmth exuded upon her arrival, only to quickly turn frigid and barren of help the moment Steven's name left her lips. The third place held some notion of hope, as they had almost taken Steven's reservation almost a week ago, if only they hadn't been completely booked.

"But that last place on the list, I think they might have him boarded up with them," the woman at the desk had said with a chipper smile.

Ambrose confirmed all of their truthfulness as he had with the first hotel. When they arrived at the fourth place, however, the personnel were cagey, questioning, not forthcoming. They even dragged out the manager to help in deal with Shay's inquiries, which in turn, drew more personnel buzzing about like curious flies.

"Explain to me again why you need to see Champion Steven Stone again," the manager behind the counter drawled, drawing out Steven's title and his name out, as though Shay were being particularly thick and was perhaps confused as to whom she was really looking for and wished for clarification. A Zangoose prowled back and forth behind the counter, occasionally popping up and muttering a few choice words that expressed how it sorely wished for Shay to start something so that they could finish it. A few other personnel clustered around or beside the manager, empty of any pokémon partners with them, but they too were waiting eagerly on Shay with jackal-like glee, eyes glittering dangerously in the ambient lighting.

Shay wasn't about to let them win and she drew herself up in the face of their scrutiny.

Confidence. That's all she needed to show them, just twenty seconds of insane courage. That's all she really needed.

"I was charged by Augustus Stone personally to find his son, Steven Stone, and deliver something to him," Shay answered, very slowly and very carefully, so that she couldn't be misunderstood, even by the willful. The manager watching her—balding, portly, a bit doughy-faced with a rather smarmy smile twitching its way across his features as he stood in his pressed suit behind the counter—mulled over her words, carefully so.

"Mister Stone is, indeed, staying with us. But I'm afraid I can't have any ragamuffin who comes in here to paw and gawk in an unseemly manner at Champion Stone. If you have the goods with you that need to be delivered, please leave it with us, and we'll ensure that it is given to him when he returns."

Shay narrowed her eyes as the manager extended a hand out to her, palm up and expectant, as he waited. She adjusted the strap of her sling-pack, standing straighter on the spot. She felt her thoughts scrambling for a moment, and she entertained the idea of just caving and calling it a day. She shook off her exhaustion, knowing she needed to see this through.

"I'm sorry, but Augustus Stone made it very clear that I had to deliver the goods to his son in person, not to hand it off to some uppity hotel manager with a power-tripping complex to do it when it fits his schedule and convenience."

The manager's face grew ruddy at her remark and the Zangoose hissed menacingly in Shay's direction. She stood her ground and waved her team members down with a flick of her fingers at her side. Reluctantly, they settled down, but the air itself seemed to still be drawn taut and electrified. A tight smile crossed the man's face once more.

"Then I believe we are at an impasse, miss. I'm sorry to say that I will not reveal my client's information or current whereabouts. And I can't have you loitering about my lobby or out in front of my hotel, either. I'm afraid if you try, I'll call the police and have you forcibly removed, not to mention I'll press charges against you with everything I can, alongside a restraining order."

The manager's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it at all while triumph and glee glittering in his dark eyes. He stared down at Shay from across the barrier of the desk counter between them. She wanted to smash her fist into those teeth of his, make him swallow them up, one by one. He had the power as well as the information and he was enjoying flaunting that fact over her head.

"I suppose we are at an impasse," Shay remarked with mock-disappointment, a hand rising to cup the side of her cheek. This was more than troublesome, and it was incredibly agitating that she was being treated like a street urchin. Her only crime was not looking good enough for a swanky establishment like this. The lobby alone looked as though the owners had spared no expense at all. It made her curious as to what the rooms looked like. "And I'm sure Augustus will be rather disappointed that, instead of being a generously helpful and good Samaritan, I'll have to return to Rustboro with a report of how uncooperative and rather inflexible you were in my endeavors to be a good little courier. I'm sure that you'll be hearing from him within the day, so please, by all means—feel free to bar me from the hotel." She turned on her heel, her team slowly doing the same, as she waved over her shoulder, before stopping in her tracks, wagging her index finger and pointing it at her x-transceiver. "Or, I can call him, since I have his personal number on speed dial. I don't expect you to have a job by the end of the day, never mind the next hour or so."

She made a show of browsing through the menu of her contacts in the x-transceiver, humming cheerfully to herself as she started walking once more, a little skip in her step as she neared the hotel's exit. Faye craned her head and neck to look over her shoulder at the manager, who now looked almost as pale as his Zangoose's creamy-white fur. The other personnel appeared almost as distraught, just as the hotel sliding doors quickly glided open and then shut behind Shay after she strolled right through them.

Sela chuffed, amused.

"He looked ready to empty his stomach of everything he's eaten in the past day."

"Just the day?" Luna remarked smartly, her yellow eyes narrowing to amused slits. She trotted after Shay as she trod along at a leisurely pace, Luna's long, lanky legs keeping pace easily. "I'd say the whole week and then some."

Shay chuckled. Faye jerked on her shoulder, head craning back toward the hotel's entrance.

"Someone's following us," she reported, and she swiveled around completely to better watch the hotel. Moments later, one of the desk personnel came trotting out, and upon seeing Shay, rushed after.

"Excuse me, miss? Miss, wait!"

Shay halted, waiting for the thin sprig of a woman to catch up. She swept back her sandy-blonde hair and straightened herself up as she brought herself up to Shay. Her team pressed in close, waiting for what she had to say as well. Faye did much the same from her perch on Shay's shoulder, head tilting one way and then the other, watching the woman intently as a bird could.

"Please—we can't afford to have Mister Stone coming down on our heads because our boss is being a snobby ass. It would _ruin_ us," she said, apologetic and pleading all at once. "Champion Steven doesn't stay all that often in his room, but I do know where he usually is when he comes to Dewford Town."

Attentively, Shay turned to face the woman more fully, waiting. The woman continued, giving directions to where Shay would need to go.

"And…you won't mention this to Mister Stone, right?"

Shay studied the woman before her, with her earnest smile painted on her face, mocha-dark eyes washing over Shay's face as she waited. Shay sighed and nodded.

"I'll be sure to omit this after I report the goods delivered to Mister Stone's son, sure."

Relief was starkly palpable as it washed over the other woman's face. She seemed to practically sag in on herself, but it was fleeting, before she straightened and slowly wandered back to the hotel with a soft thanks. Shay watched, then quickly called upon the map in her x-transceiver, plotting out a course. It'd take about an hour or so to reach their intended location, so long as they weren't delayed or distracted.

"You knew where we needed to go already, didn't you?"

There was faint amusement in Ambrose's voice as he addressed Shay without tilting his head toward her.

"I had a sneaking suspicion," Shay replied carefully, motioning with a slight nod of her head for them all to get going. "But I still wanted to check in town instead of hoofing it without solid confirmation."

"So, Granite Cave it is, then," Sela replied coolly, her lips peeling back into a wolfish grin. "And we're to assume we'll be dealing with some training in the interim?"

"Well, Brawly is a fighting-type expert. You won't stand a chance in any battles right now, Sela. You too, Luna," Shay said, offering an apologetic smile to both. Luna lifted her nose into the air, but her ears pressed against her head in annoyance. "So, I think our best bet is to strengthen Faye and Ambrose up, so that we have a chance at winning the Knuckle Badge. However, that doesn't mean you guys will be slacking."

She offered a grin to the rest of the team and gave a wave northward. "Now let's follow that trail! That trail that we blaze!"

* * *

The trail that they blazed was littered with other trainers lounging about on the beaches of Dewford Town. Residents and visitors alike sunbathed, splashed, or surfed their way along the waters. Several fishermen were also out and about, their tacklebox and bait alike close at hand as they sat by the shore and waited for a nibble on their lines.

Many overlooked Shay as she traversed her way along the beachhead, while others stopped to challenge her and her team. She readily accepted, switching them out accordingly so that they could all gain experience and grow evenly.

Northward, they pressed, taking one break in between to catch a breather, to heal up, and nibble on their own snacks. After that, it was a straight shot to Granite Cave. The mouth of it was like a yawning maw, deep and dark and opening wide to swallow up any foolish enough to wander too close.

A sign was imbedded in the sand, worn by weather and time, but still readable to any willing to spare it a glance: _Granite Cave._

Shay dithered just out of reach of the entrance, listening in and hearing…nothing. It was oddly silent within. A nudge at her side drew her attention and she looked down to see Ambrose with his paw on her leg, claws gently digging into the fabric of her pants. The monolithic immensity of the mountain that hoisted itself skyward attached to the mouth beckoning her closer. The silhouette of the rock jutting upwards seemed endless, ongoing, as though it was going to spread onwards like the spine of a great beast. Silence lay within, hushed and sudden, holding its breath, patiently waiting to claim another soul within its stone belly.

"It's safe, for the most part. The Zubat should be asleep or at the very least drowsing, so we shouldn't be bothered too much. Just so long as we don't cause too much of a disturbance, that is."

"And what about the Makuhita?" Shay remarked pointedly, arching a brow at the Ralts, but she kept her gaze locked on the cave, expectant for something to lurch out toward them.

Ambrose's toothy smile faded. "So long as we don't cross them wrong, we should be fine." He tilted his head more fully up at her. "And there should be little to worry about, as long as Faye and I aren't put out of capacity."

That reassurance helped with that last push forward. Faye snuggled close against Shay's neck, and Breela was practically glued to Shay's boots. It took a few unsuccessful steps for her to finally reach down and pick up the small girl, cradling her close.

"Sela, light the way, please."

"With pleasure," the Poochyena replied, flashing her fangs before they blazed bright and hot. Embers dribbled past her lips and flared, rising, falling, and fizzled out on the ground. Sela took the lead, and Luna brought up the rear. Keno remained at Shay's side as they stepped into the cool interior of the cave. True to Ambrose's word, the cave ceiling was littered with Zubat. They chittered quietly, high-pitched and hushed as they wriggled and dangled above them.

"Try not to make too much noise. It'll disturb them and draw them out to you," Ambrose stated softly. They moved on, deeper into the depths of the cave. There were small openings in the roof of the cave, and shafts of sunlight pierced the darkness, giving them some manner of natural light to see by. Sela, however, kept the way lit as they ventured into the darker parts.

The path was rather linear, much like the Rusturf Tunnel had been. The path had its curves, but otherwise, it was straightforward. It was more or less clear of major obstructions, and it almost felt as though the walls had been carved out over dozens of generations rather than forming naturally.

Eventually, the path seemed to finally divert; one sloped sharply upward and seemed to require more specialized equipment to advance onward, while the other continued, this with a gentler decline, before settling evenly about thirty or so feet down. It looked as though steps had been carved into the stone and dirt, offering an easier descent. Ambrose gave a nod in the declining steps' direction.

"There. I can sense someone just beyond."

Shay bobbed her head but stopped short when she remembered that Ambrose couldn't see her. It was yet another hallmark moment that filled a checkbox she's been keeping track of since day one. Steven lay ahead of them, staring at an ancient cave drawing spanning the wall of the cavern. Apprehension clenched tightly in her gut, and her hands grew slick and sweaty, no matter how much she tried to rub them on her pants to dry them.

"Thanks," she said, quickly but still with a grateful air. The little Ralts offered her another of his trademark toothy grins, although he said nothing else. They fell upon the steps, their footsteps scraping softly against the stone flooring.

The acoustics of the chittering Zubat soon began to fade the deeper they pressed and the closer they came to their intended destination.

Soft light danced in the air ahead of them, and the tunnel widened out to a broad cavern. It was largely empty, although a few stalactites dangled precariously from the roof and stalagmites speared upwards, as if to try and pierce the veil of the ceiling and reach for the clear blue sky beyond. A large hole hung clearly above them, perhaps forty or fifty feet, casting a sharp shaft of golden light to spill into the gloom. It almost seemed as though the stone ceiling had grown too rotten and weak to hold its weight there and simply gave in.

It was, for the time being, free of any Zubat dangling about, but they all continued to respectfully keep quiet for the time being. Sela sharply clacked her teeth together and the flames she had kept going washed away as if they had never existed in the first place.

The lighting from the ceiling was more than enough to see by, and it seemed to be softening all the harsh edges and lines of the cavernous room. The environment was still and hushed, as though time had frozen in the capsule of the space around them. Shay and her team paused on the threshold, drinking in the enormity of it all as it stretched all around them until Shay's eyes landed on the far side opposite them.

It was just like in the game, but this was…real. Corporeal. It was no longer game graphics that defined what was spread before her and her team. Deep down, she chastised herself for once more pressing comparisons to the forefront of her head, because not everything has gone accordingly. Not to mention, this was no longer a game.

She pushed it all away as a chill swept along the curve of her spine and twined around her limbs, a flash of gooseflesh pimple across her skin as this all settled into place, and she brought her attention to bear upon the main attraction of the room.

A great mural, faded with time yet still wholly visible to the eye, stretched across the far wall. In all honesty, whenever Shay came across this scene in the games, she had always rushed through things and could barely recall what the mural looked like; vague depictions of either Kyogre or Groudon, for sure, but beyond that, well...

But now she was forced to look, to take it in, to commit to memory the sight of the ancient drawing.

Swirling lines representing great waves heaved upwards, as the primal form of Kyogre breached them. Blots of dark paint swerved overhead, as dashes of lines slanted downwards—representations of storm clouds and rain and lightning. There were other sigils marking up the mural—ones that Shay couldn't make heads or tails of—but for some reason, it almost felt…incomplete. As though there was a missing half to the entire thing. As much space as there was for Kyogre and the display of its awesome powers, there was still plenty left over, as if the painter had left the canvas open for something new, yet they never got around to it.

It seemed hardly a leap of logic to assume that it had been meant for Groudon, and yet…why hadn't it been finished? She recalled, however vaguely, that in the _Omega Ruby_ game, there had been a similar mural, but its dedication was reserved for Groudon instead, with an omission of Kyogre entirely.

Groudon and Kyogre were two halves of one whole; forever at war with one another, and yet they couldn't be without the other. The earth and the sea couldn't be alone. It was, simply put, impossible.

Keno drew himself beside Shay, a hand reaching to grip her elbow. Breela shivered quietly in Shay's arms, and carefully, she set Breela down. The Shroomish stayed close, as she was wont to do.

"We're not alone," Ambrose said aloud in a low voice, drawing her from her thoughts. Shay blinked, drawing her attention away from the ancient painting. She had been so occupied by mural that she had overlooked the individual apart from her team that had occupied the cavern before she came along.

The figure stood at the foot of the cave art, pacing along the edges, pointing to one part, then crossing to the other side. Soft, almost indiscernible, mutterings could be heard emanating from the figure, their attention completely drawn to their studious task. Even at a distance, Shay recognized who it was—whether it was silvery hair that had an almost pale blue sheen to it, or the sharp cut of their outfit. It was Steven Stone, all right, the current Champion of Hoenn.

The arrival of this realization brought back another round of hard knots tying tighter in her belly, and the anxiety returned tenfold.

Faye fluffed herself up and lightly scraped the tip of her beak against Shay's cheek. She winced at the unexpected contact.

"We've found him. Let's deliver his letter and get out of here, shall we?"

"Please," added Breela in a whisper. "I don't like the feel of this place."

Shay frowned, opened her mouth to reply, thought better of it, and closed it. Instead, she bowed her head in understanding and started forward. The drumming rush of blood flow roared loud as a waterfall crashing around her ears, timed along with her breathing and heartbeat. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants as she moved forward, keeping her steps purposeful and quiet. The others moved as she did, carefully keeping to their positions.

Shay's boot struck a rock and it went clattering across the stone floor. The sound was cacophonous at best, explosive at worst, as it bounced all around them.

The figure turned, and indeed it was Steven Stone. As if she really needed the confirmation. Shay recognized him—not just from the games, but also from several interviews he had done for various television networks over the past couple of years. She had spent a number of hours watching television in Norman's house that multiple programs had made their rounds.

Interviews were just a number of them.

Steven focused his gaze on Shay, more than halfway across and yet there was still a deep expanse of space left between them. Shay, in turn, winced again. Even if her throat was rough as sandpaper, she somehow managed to find her voice. "Sorry about that. I meant to say something when I got closer."

Luna cackled behind Shay, and Sela chuffed, her eyes glittering with mirth. Keno shook his head and motioned for the others to quiet down. Shay cleared her throat in the interim, addressing Steven once again.

"I'm here to make a delivery to you," she said, pausing for effect before adding with a wry smile and arched brow, "you _are_ Steven Stone, correct?"

Steven turned on his heel to face her in full, his countenance carefully shrouded in neutrality.

"That depends. From whom am I receiving a delivery, and how did you find me?" His voice was low, almost melodic and practiced, but there was a steel edge to it that promised swift retribution if her intentions were anything but truthful. The hard knots in her belly twisted like serpents and slithered lower.

"It's from your father. He wanted a letter delivered to you and personally asked me to do so, gave me a point of direction to start with. I found you through the hotel you're staying at."

The Champion allowed a faint frown to mar his features as he considered the information. "I see."

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, they did keep your personal information safe…not that I was looking for anything beyond your location. And then right after, they threatened to throw me out, have me arrested, and a restraining order placed on me for good measure as soon as I mentioned your name. I had no choice but to…get creative by alluding to their refusal to help to your father. They chose the lesser of two evils."

"Clearly," Steven remarked, his eyes widening just a fraction as he regarded Shay more fully, as if he were seeing her for the first time. She couldn't tell if he was displeased or impressed; his face remained carefully neutral on the matter. It caused her some amount of discomfort, being stared at so intently, and she wished her face wasn't so swollen, so bruised. At least she could see out of her other eye now; for that she was thankful.

Shay erred on the side of caution and decided to not gloat on the matter. They held one another's gazes, until Steven seemed to come to his senses and made a motion to her. "Do you happen to have this mysterious letter from my father with you, or am I to assume you came all this way just to tell me about it?"

There seemed to be a challenge in his tone. One that continued to suggest that if she were lying, she wouldn't have time to be sorry for the matter of tricking him if she wasn't being truthful on her end. It sent an even icier chill to settle at the base of her spine, sending intermittent shivers up and down the length of her body at the slight edge in Steven's voice.

"Letter," Faye said softly in Shay's ear, rubbing her beak on the woman's cheek, even as Breela pressed against the back of her ankle and calf, sending her trembling up Shay's leg. The woman had to fight the sudden urge to giggle and squirm at both sensations. Instead Shay focused on swinging her sling-pack around to her front. She dug around inside it until she felt the edges of the envelope brush against her fingers and they grasped it carefully, taking it out. Steven came forward, bridging the gap between them quite rapidly and—

 _Good lord, he's enormous. Tall as a goddamned Ent. Jesus H. Christ!_

Steven simply towered over her, and it nearly overwhelmed her. Then Shay remembered she had worked with tall bean poles often enough that it shouldn't be as big a shock to her. It's merely been a while. People came in all shapes and sizes and Steven…

Steven simply stumbled on the side of tall and lithe in build.

She shook it all away like a cold feeling—and then that familiar itch-shiver-scratch skittered across the back of her head, trailing warmth in its wake.

' _Easy. You're fine. Confidence. And twenty seconds of insane courage,'_ Ambrose's voice—warm as molasses, sweet as sugar—whispered, so close to her ear and yet so very distant all at the same time. The reminder helped solidify her resolve. Steel slowly steepled its way up her spine, replacing the serpentine ice ball and she stood a little taller as she held the letter out to Steven.

Long fingers reached out and plucked the envelope from her small hand and Steven's pale smoky eyes drifted over her face in a brief once-over, before he tucked into the object in his hands. He turned his back on her, expertly tearing the seal neatly apart and promptly began to read the letter, right then and there. Silence swelled like the tides in the air between them, broken only by the soft shuffling from her team. Luna came up behind Shay, pressing her lanky body against her leg, tail curling and body bending like liquid as her purring reverberated into Shay.

Ambrose patted her other leg in a reassuring manner, while Keno leaned a heavy palm against her hip on the same side. Faye was silent, save for her breathing, as she pressed her body against Shay's neck and face.

"We should probably get to training soon," Keno said, keeping his voice sotto voce, while his tiger-orange eyes remained glued on Steven. Shay dipped her head in agreement.

"When he's gone," she replied through gritted teeth and in a voice almost too discernable to hear.

Steven turned back toward her, and the sudden movement made her freeze, startled. Pale eyes alit to her, the letter already folding up to be stored back in its home once more.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I haven't given my gratitude sooner. You certainly went above and beyond the call of duty to ensure this made it to me in a timely manner. I do have to ask though," Steven said, wagging the envelope in hand, a smile curling his lips for the first time. "Why didn't you simply leave it with the concierge at the hotel?"

Shay rolled her eyes and snorted, and it was a loud and ugly sound as it echoed off the cavernous walls around them.

"I doubt they would have kept it safe. The manager came out and was the one who threatened to eject me from the premises as soon as your name left my lips. I had a sneaking suspicion he would have tossed the letter in the garbage the minute I left if I gave it to him. He didn't give the impression of trustworthy, especially when he described me as 'ragamuffin' and looked at me like I was gutter refuse that somehow made it into his lobby."

"Hmm. That is rather troubling news to hear. I might have to have a word with the hotel manager when I return, if that's the case." He gave pause, assessing her once more, as though he were seeing her for the first time. "I thank you for your efforts. I'm truly sorry for the obstacles you had to endure to find me."

 _Confidence._

Shay crossed her arms, ducking her gaze to glance at Keno and Ambrose at her side instead.

"It was either make sure you got that letter or go back to Rustboro and report to your father that a pesky and rather smarmy hotel manager was blockading my efforts to deliver a simple letter to you in person, as he requested. Like I said before, he chose the lesser of two evils."

"Yes, well…I'm sure my father would have had him out of a job if you came back with a report such as that."

Ah. So, her first initial instincts on the matter had been right, after all. She hadn't just been bluffing for nothing. When Shay lifted her gaze back up to meet Steven's, her stomach dropped away at the frown playing on his lips.

"I'm…sorry, but I don't recall if you ever introduced yourself."

"I'm…" Shay tried to find the right words and failed, before falling back on something simple. With a shake of her head, she replied, "I'm just a friendly neighborhood courier."

"Ah. I suppose that this is where we must part ways, Miss Courier. Thank you again for having this delivered to me."

His smile returned and it was a rather nice one that reached his eyes and lit his face up. It was genuine and kind, above all else. It almost made her believe that he was a friendly and approachable guy whom she could confide in, but deep down in her gut, she knew better. Quietly, she stood aside to allow him to pass. He paused, however, just as he slipped her by, and lifted a hand, fingers curled except for his index finger and he wagged it, as though tapping it at a checklist and wanted to emphasis one point above everything else.

"I'm sorry…I hope that this isn't too forward, but would you mind if I called upon you if I ever need something delivered? You seem to be a rather dependable courier, given how quickly you managed to bring this to me. Tenacious, even."

The good feeling that had building up inside Shay's chest deteriorated completely and was replaced by a gaping hole. She grasped uselessly for something, anything, and found herself drawing a blank. Once more, Ambrose came her rescue, reminding her that all she needed was twenty seconds of insane courage. It helped bolster her in a time when she needed it most.

"This was actually my first gig, and it's a temporary one. I don't think that'd be a good idea."

Steven's pale eyes widened in surprise and appraisal as he smiled, blindsiding her all at once.

"Surprising to hear, but…I feel confident in placing my trust in you." Once more, that dashing smile appeared, drawing her in and coaxing her to turn complacent. Ambrose dug his claws into her calf, and it served as a helpful wake-up call that required no words.

Steven seemed to notice her hesitance and instead waved a dismissive hand. "I'm sorry, this must be a bit much, having the me pressing you like this. Tell you what, we can do a trial period. I can give you my personal number and we can go from there. Would that be all right?"

Shay dithered, casting her gaze toward her team members. Breela simply trembled against her, remaining silent. Keno met her eyes, hesitance playing havoc across his expression. Ambrose kept his silence in all senses. Faye hummed gently in Shay's ear, and instead seemed to find her earrings more entertaining as she gently plucked at them. Sela chuffed, but gave no further inference to a helpful signal, and Luna purred against Shay's leg.

In the end, Shay found herself reluctantly inclining her head and brought her x-transceiver to bear. Steven gave pause, staring at the device in comparison to his and he arched a brow at her.

"You don't use a PokéNav Plus?" Steven queried curiously, glancing between his device and hers. Shay pursed her lips but didn't meet his gaze as she flowed through the commands until she came upon what she was looking for. "That looks to be a…an x-transceiver. Are you from Unova by any chance?"

"Kanto, actually," Shay quickly answered before adding, "but I've taken a shine to the x-transceiver. The video calls are pretty lit."

The Champion didn't answer right away. Instead, he contemplated her answer, face reverted to a neutral mask.

"Yes. I've heard of those features. My father is currently working on a feature for the new PokéNav so that it may do much the same, and without overloading the device or draining its battery life so rapidly. Tell me, how well does your x-transceiver work on a full charge?"

"Are…are you trying to get a scope on things?"

"Perhaps," he answered, sounding rather genuinely honest as he gave a wry smile. "I'm interested in learning people's preferences, likes, complaints."

He watched her expectantly. Shay snorted.

"If you want a survey from me, I think I'd rather fill it out online." Shay's lips pulled into a tight, humourless smile. In return, the humour Steven held on his part faded, perplexity dawning on his features.

"You're not very forthcoming, are you?"

"I like my privacy."

Steven hummed back noncommittally. Shay avoided his gaze when he sought hers out and instead, she turned back to the screen staring up at her, fingers hovering over the commands to add in a new contact. Quietly, Steven seemed to understand, and relayed his information to her, and she did the same in return. A thought hit her after the niceties were exchanged and she stared between the device clutched in Steven's hand and the one strapped to her wrist.

She worried at her lower lip as the idea churned through her thoughts. Could PokéNav devices and her x-transceiver work compatibly? Or was it like Androids and iPhones back home, where they functioned just fine with one another, with varying differences that were more or less personal preference and aesthetics and software?

Shay didn't trust the question to be easy or simple or above all else, quick. Instead, she quietly tucked it back for later research and offered a thin smile to the taller man and cleared her throat.

"If that's all, I think I'll take my leave. I have other errands to run, things to do, a team to train."

She motioned to her team, still huddling close, tense and hyperaware of all that is happening.

Steven's gaze swept over the gathered pokémon, awareness seeming to filter through, and he gave a curt nod.

"I'm sorry to have kept your trainer, everyone. And besides," Steven began, turning to glance back at the mural looming over them. "I can stare at this thing for weeks—and believe me, I have—but I doubt I can glean much more from it, much as I try."

"It…almost looks as if it's incomplete. Like something else was meant to be on the other side, facing off against Kyogre."

The words came without thought, before Shay could screen them through. Steven turned back toward her with surprise shining through. It gave way to amusement shortly, a smile playing on his lips as he shot another look at the mural.

"I always thought so myself, and it was theorized by many archaeologists as well as anthropologists that specialize in subjects that include ancient art such as this." He swept an arm toward the Kyogre on display in the painting. "I believe that this is supposed to represent Kyogre in its Primal form, a reversion of its physical form which gave it immense and terrifying power; enough to quite literally bury the surrounding lands until nothing but the sea remained in its wake. A force of nature given visceral physical form, no matter what shape it took."

Distance made his eyes grow cloudy and distracted as he lapsed into silence. Shay studied the painting, and another shudder twined its way through her limbs, down her spine, and settled in her core.

Would it be worth breaking the timeline, and to warn Steven here and now of just how far Team Aqua was going to get? How far their machinations would take them, and just how terrifyingly close they would get to destroying the world by unleashing Kyogre upon the world?

If anything, it would circumvent the entire course of events that transpired throughout _Alpha_ _Sapphire_. She wouldn't need to trudge through the trenches of Team Aqua's bullshit. She wouldn't have to worry about being caught in the mires of their schemes. She'd be free to just work and train with her team, and Steven could do all the heavy lifting and waylay Archie and his band of societal rejects.

That would also mean exposing herself as to who and what she really was: essentially an alien, a stranger to this world, and in addition to all of that, she'd have to reveal what she truly knew of this world and how. How it was nothing more than a global phenomenon of a different sort, a series of games, television shows, an assortment of films, and so much more that she couldn't even remember it all and trying to made her head hurt.

It would complicate things beyond measure—and who was to say that Steven would even believe her? He might just deem her unfit to be a trainer if she began espousing such things, strip her of her team, and take her away from all that was familiar and grounding.

The possibilities made her heartrate skyrocket and she had to force her face into a pleasant expression as he turned back toward her.

"I'm sorry, I've kept you long enough and I believe I've spent enough time here. I'll take my leave and let you go about your errands."

Focus and clarity were sharp in his pale eyes, and it struck Shay then and there that he was trying to glean more without asking or pressing. Suddenly, she was once again a junior Marine under the scrutiny of a high-ranking officer, and they were using not only their rank but authoritative presence to pressure her. Whether it was to confess or to dare her to lie and be caught in it, she couldn't be sure. The drumming in her head grew louder, and the ache of her headache grew right alongside it.

When she simply nodded to him, he seemed to realize she wasn't going to be forthcoming with anything else, and without further preamble, he took his leave. As if they were all one, Shay and her team turned to watch sans Ambrose, and it was only when Ambrose declared that Steven's energy signature was finally, completely gone from Granite Cave that they all seemed to breathe. The air itself lessened its gravity upon them, the pressure released and the stiffness that had held them all captive relinquished its hold.

Shay touched the side of her temple gingerly, eyes squeezed shut tightly, jaw clenched. Pressure had built up all along the back of her head, and along the contours of her neck. Heat built up around the fringes of her eyes, adding to the stress and tension and the sensation of her skull being squeezed. The bruises that cut along her cheeks and jawline throbbed dully, and the skin tightened around the swell of her stitches. Everything, simply put, seemed to relax, only to simultaneously squeeze even tighter.

Keno gently took the canteen hanging from her belt, pressing it into her hand. Without a word, she took it, fingers tightening around it until her knuckles creaked and turned white.

"You should take your medicine if your head is hurting," he simply said. Faye nibbled at her ear when she didn't answer Keno.

"Mm-hmm. Yep. Working on it."

After she took half a pill, Shay turned back to her team, the pounding in her head was still beating away. Ambrose crossed his arms, head tilting as though he were listening for something. In a way, he was.

"Sorry about all that."

"That was…kind of terrifying. I was just waiting for him to send out one of his pokémon." Keno remarked.

"He wouldn't have. He doesn't seem to know who you are," Ambrose cut in. The good news ended there as he continued. "But he's on edge and quite alert to the fact that you're not in Littleroot anymore. It seems Steven wrung the truth out of Norman a few weeks ago."

"Seriously?" Shay groaned, throwing her head back to stare listlessly at the cave ceiling as she muttered flatly, "Great."

"Yes. It was a rather good instinct you followed by not saying anything to him, and playing things close to the vest, Miss Courier."

The woman snorted but couldn't fight the grin from playing across her face. It faded quickly enough as awareness dawned upon her. "And now he might just call me at any time he wants. That's fan-fucking-tastic. So much for staying off the grid."

"He _is_ the Champion," Luna reminded her. "I bet a lot of people have trouble telling him no, especially when his daddy is a powerful and rich human who has a lot of money at his disposal. He's probably grown up in a bubble where 'no' was a rare word in his home, and that kind of influence bled into his expectations of people around him."

"That…is true." Shay conceded, surprised at the observation from the Skitty. Luna preened, her tail flicking and looking about as smug as a cat could get.

"I'm not entirely feral. I've spent enough time skirting around Rustboro's more rural neighborhoods to gather a semblance of human living conditions, thank you very much."

"Sorry if I ever doubted you, Luna," Shay said, grateful that her medicine seemed to be kicking in, slowly but surely. It still had a long while yet to go, but the pounding headache beating at the edges of her thoughts was dimming down and it wasn't quite so chaotic a mess in there. Her focus was coming back together, and she put her hands on her hips, drawing herself up.

"Okay. We've got a couple of hours to kill, and I think we should spend it training. What do you guys say?"

A chorus of agreement was all she needed.

* * *

 _ **Additional Notes:**_ **My stepdad is crazy awesome. He may not be my biological dad, but he is the dad I had growing up, and I love him. And it is incredibly true about both the sharks and the rattlesnake. I have pictures of both. He really is like the Steve Irwin of our house; we have had a number of animals, both conventional and strange, growing up. I'm surprised we haven't gotten a crocodile or a serval in the house yet, but there is still time for that, ha-ha!**

 **Speaking of, there will soon be Steve Irwin Funko Pop figures on the market! You can bet your sweet asses I will have them.**

 **Also, here have some military terminology!**

 _ **NCO**_ **: Non-Commissioned Officer. Basically, Corporals and Sergeants who have limited powers of authority. A number of billets, or job titles, tend to be reserved for these two ranks—most sergeants, to be honest, but Corporals can and have filled out those jobs. Example, A Platoon Sergeant can be filled by either rank, but it also isn't unusual in particularly small units for someone as a Lance Corporal to hold this position as well! They're usually the first line of defense for junior Marines below them against everyone else. Everyone's leadership styles are so different, though—and plenty turn into scumbag leaders who flaunt their power and make everyone beneath them miserable just for the sake of shits and giggles. I've ran into plenty of these types.**

 _ **SNCO**_ **: Staff Non-Commissioned Officer. All the other ranks above Sergeants, starting at Staff Sergeant and going all the way up to Master Gunnery Sergeant and Sergeant Major (these two share the same highest grade as E-9s, but they branch off dependent on their executive or administrative powers, and are unique in their own rights).**

 _ **CO**_ **: Commanding Officer. Just a friendly reminder that this has been stated before in a previous chapter, but they're essentially in charge of a unit, company, battalion, etc. They hold the highest rank in the company they head as the leading officers. They're the ones with shiny collars, basically, and are often accompanied by an XO (Executive Officer) and a First Sergeant.**

 **Lastly, let's welcome the newest catch!**

 **Pokémon** **: Nux the Magikarp, Level 10  
** **Nature/Characteristic** **: Sassy and Scatters Things Often  
** **Move Set** **: Splash**


	20. Chapter Nineteen: The Crooked Kind

**Chapter Nineteen:  
** **The Crooked Kind**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **:** **Apologies for the lateness. I had a bare-bones draft of this chapter written out and then I had to slap some meat and polish on it before presenting it to y'all. I also nearly lost this chapter into the depths of another folder—but I thought it had been lost for good. I hope this doesn't become a theme for chapters involving gym battles.**

 **I hope it was worth the wait!**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

 **Badges Won** **: Stone Badge**

* * *

 _Some get dealt simple hands  
Some walk the common paths, all nice and worn  
But all folks are damaged goods  
It ain't a talk of "if, " just one of "when" and "how"_

 _So, collect your scars and wear 'em well  
Your blood's as good an ink as any  
Go scratch your name into the clouds  
And pull 'em all... down  
_ **—"** _ **The Crooked Kind**_ **" by Radical Face**

* * *

The world was dark and loud and so very big, even if he couldn't see it properly. Oleander was always there, though. His twin was hardly ever out of range, even if he wasn't physically there. They were connected, no matter the distance.

It was the same with his mother. Comfort and protection alike whorled around her presence, sweet and warm and tender. There was love, and nothing but when she was around, and she was rarely ever away, and if she was, it was never for long. Ambrose was never alone, however. His twin brother Oleander was always there right beside him.

Emotion that he couldn't name yet felt all the same bubbled up from deep down, spread out, settled in.

Their mother was the leader of their clan. She held herself with grace and poise, and it reflected in her energy. There was prestige in the way she carried herself, both mentally and physically. Oleander has called her 'regal' in the past and has made attempts to give description to her for Ambrose. He always seemed to come up short and could only finish with a flush of feelings, unspoken but felt. Somehow, those always made a better impression to Ambrose than words every could.

It was like trying to explain what colour the sky was to someone who has never known what colour was in the first place. All he could see was the darkness that made up his world.

He didn't need to see the world, or his mother, to know how he felt when he was around her.

Safe. Protected. Warm.

Simple, yet elegant.

She taught him to see in a different way. To move about as freely as his brother, who could see. His powers matured at a quicker rate as a result. Oleander was always a step behind Ambrose, whose senses were sharper.

What he never had in vision, he more than gained elsewhere. The silent beat of a Beautifly's wings as they danced in the air, teased along by the whisper of a breeze. The flare of a Dustox's newfound psychic energy as it emerged from the prison of a Cascoon's silky twines. The gaping emptiness that was the dark-type Poochyena and Mightyena as they prowled on softly padded paws, sluicing across the forest floor in search of food.

She kept him safe from the others of their clan. Weakness was frowned upon, and any chink in the armour would have sent Viola careening from her position. Having a blind babe would have counted against her. She gave him the whetstone to sharpen his edges, until there was little fear for his safety.

His mother gave him a gift, and he treasured it. It was not the sight she wished for him to have, but it was what she gave him regardless. By the time she could teach him no longer, and he had learned all he could, he had enough grace to move about their little corner of the world without encumbrance.

She told him that when he evolved, his body would change. This, he already knew about. She told him that he would see the world like everyone else. That his vision was simply a late bloom of progression for his body.

" _There is_ nothing _you can't do_."

Those words were seared into his mind, and he repeats them constantly, because why would he ever doubt his own mother? He believes those words, and the reassurance that he'll see one day, when he evolves, when he grows stronger, when his body adapts to the new changes. These are the words Viola has whispered to him in the past, every night, while she stroked his head and ran her claws gently through his fur, soothing as she did so. These are the words he clings to, and he believes them to his core.

* * *

They were ready.

Training lasted nearly a week. They visited the beach and Granite Cave alike, hiking out each morning and returning in the evening. A mess of Zubat, Makuhita, and Geodude were always waiting for them. The cave-dwelling pokémon were always willing for a challenge, it seemed, especially the Zubat when a ruckus was made. The Makuhita would soon follow after to investigate the hubbub. An unlucky Abra made an appearance once, but it quickly slipped away, before a battle and subsequent capture. The Geodude were always lurking, hiding in plain sight.

And then there was the hapless Aron that had stumbled upon them, with a horde of Makuhita hot on their heels. After making short work of the Makuhita, and much like the Magikarp from a week prior, Shay saw the Aron was in need of help. Shay ended up taking the Aron in for medical attention. Before she knew it, she had ended up with yet another potential team member, replenished and waiting in the wings alongside the Magikarp.

The day after the Aron had been caught, they made for the gym. The day they made for the gym, they were stonewalled, told to come back the next day. Brawly wasn't in.

Despite the setback, they enjoyed a day out in Dewford Town. Luna came back to the Center with a silky scarf that boosted her normal-type moves. Shay came back with a series of new piercings in her ears, including those in the cartilage. They ate some takeout, and winded down with watching programs on local television.

The next day, they took off early after breakfast.

They were still ready.

The Dewford Town Gym loomed before them in the early morning light. Despite the early hour, there was a surprising number of people out and about. Some milled about in front of storefronts, while others moved on with their day, wherever it may take them.

Ambrose gently patted Shay's leg comfortingly, the itch-shiver-scratch raking along the back of her skull.

"We've got this."

"Well, you and Faye have this. The rest of us are going to have to sit on the sidelines, just like the last gym match." Luna said with a yawn, her fangs gleaming. Keno frowned at the Skitty, crossing his arms.

"Those rock-types hit hard, Luna. I don't think you would have enjoyed being smashed by one of them." He paused thoughtfully before adding, "And I don't think you'd like smashing into them, either."

Luna's tail twitched, just the tip of it, but it belied her calm. She gave a curt nod in relinquishment to his logic.

"…fine, point taken. I don't imagine I'd appreciate being battered around by any of the fighting-types here much, either." She gave a sigh and tilted her head. "Such a shame I was born a normal-type. I think I would have made an amazing dragon-type, but still as, well, me."

Shay chortled, even as Luna gave her quite a stare that quietly said she was serious as the grave. A brief flash of a pastel pink and cream Luna as a whipcord thin dragon went through Shay's head and the idea was vaguely tempting to attempt later on. But first, she'd need a sketchbook…

With that settled, they forged forward through the doors and into the cool interior of the Dewford Town Gym.

* * *

The Dewford Town Gym was an amazingly immaculate gym. It was a literal workout gym. There was a waiting area in the front, where a reception desk and several chairs sat, and a receptionist sat at the desk—taking both new gym members and gym challengers. Behind the receptionist desk, there were corridors that led into the back, and signs overhead indicated they led to offices, locker rooms, a set of spin class rooms, and a massage room. Not far from the entrance, there were a couple of vending machines, filled with healthy snacks, bottled water, and sports drinks.

As Shay gave her information to the receptionist and took the paperwork offered to her to read over and sign, she noticed there were a number of human and pokémon alike utilizing the gym equipment. Machop on sparring mats, Makuhita lifting cattle bell weights, even a Machamp was sauntering about, spotting several people on the weight benches at once.

A series of cycling machines and treadmills and rowing machines were neatly lined up in rows along the farthest wall, which incidentally were pressed against floor-to-ceiling bay windows that allowed anyone passing by to look on in. They were also ringing the pokémon battlefield settled in the middle of the whole damn building. Somehow, it felt smaller than the Rustboro City Gym. Perhaps it was all the workout equipment filling in empty space. Perhaps it was the lower set ceiling in comparison.

Whatever it was, Shay didn't find her eye drawn to it quite as immediately as the gym at Rustboro had. It took time to find the official field, but it was glaring in how empty it was once she did notice it.

She finished up the paperwork and returned to the seating area with her team. They quietly sat to watch as people and pokémon milled about. They went about their workout regiments, while the receptionist filed the paperwork, phoned in a few calls, and then went back to their daily grind.

"Are we going to have to take on that big guy over there?" Keno suddenly inquired, drawing Shay out of her daydreaming. She turned her attention to the Marshtomp, then followed his pointed stare to where the Machamp was, making its rounds and flexing its four upper limbs.

"Oh. No. We won't," she said, reassured that this was true as can be. Or she hoped. Keno seemed relieved at the reassurance, however, and didn't press any further. Sela, however, wasn't as convinced.

"Why not?" The Poochyena was narrowing her maraschino-bright eyes at the Machamp in question, nose quivering as she sampled the air with it.

"We are definitely not in any shape whatsoever to take on a fully evolved fighting-type of that caliber, that's why," Ambrose quipped matter-of-factly, coming to Shay's rescue. His toothy smile fell just a fraction as he added, "Although they could change things up, just to mess with us."

Sela huffed, eyes flashing as she turned them on to Ambrose. "How comforting you are."

Conversation lapsed into quiet tidbits as their wait grew, until the receptionist called to Shay, asking her to go out to the main gym battlefield toward the back end of the gym's grounds. Everyone collected themselves, and as they passed through the staggered yet neat lines of equipment, those in between sets paused to watch.

By the time she and her team reached her designated spot, a referee was already waiting at the middle line, and a ragtag series of bystanders had followed in Shay's wake to come and watch.

With a word from the referee, Shay grudgingly returned all of her team, except Faye and Ambrose, who settled either on her shoulder or by her side respectively.

Within five minutes, she had her first opponent sidling up on the other end opposite of her. It was her obligatory opponent, per the paperwork.

That was the predictable thing.

The _unpredictable_ thing was seeing the Dewford Town Gym Leader himself sauntering out to join the flock of onlooking crowd as it grew. Brawly was, in a conventional sense, handsome. Shay wasn't about to dismiss that fact, but she wasn't about to be drawn in and swayed by it either.

His hair was a tad darker than Steven Stone's, and had a more prominent blue sheen to it in the light. He was lean, athletic, tall (although to be fair, everyone was taller than her, even some freakishly tall children), and looked like he had been one of the workout patrons. He donned athletic-wear appropriate attire with a belt bearing his pokéballs that made him look at home in this very place, just as everyone else did gathering to watch. She fell back on what she knew, and what she knew was this: if he shaved down his head to regulated standards, and slipped on a Marine uniform, he would definitely fit in.

She would even hazard a guess he could complete a PFT and CFT just fine, first class and top-tier, if not perfect scores for both.

' _Relax. We got this,'_ Ambrose's voice whispered, cutting into her cycle of thoughts, accompanied by the faint itch-shiver-scratch along the back of her head.

There was a calmness to both Faye and Ambrose, and immediately, she began to emulate it. If they panicked, she'd start to feel it. If she started before them, she wouldn't be able to come down from it, even if her team tried to calm her. It'd take hours, perhaps the rest of the day and night, to shed herself of the anxiety, and if she could shed herself of any early notions of falling into that pit trap, she'd be grateful to make it through this entire ordeal without freaking.

Keno and a stack of new paperwork had helped her back at Rustboro. It had distracted her. Here, she had an expectation and framework of how things would go down. That made it inevitable to go through, and the anticipation for the actual pokémon battles made it worse, somehow.

Her battles following up were nerve-wracking, heart-pounding, and utterly…utterly forgettable.

They weren't necessarily forgotten, per say, but they were so blurred together, back-to-back, that Shay didn't commit every little bit of every little detail to memory. She was sure if she asked Faye and Ambrose later on refreshers, they'd do so.

When it was time to choose between more opponents, or taking on Brawly after her obligated two opponents, she chose to take Brawly.

The referee, who gave no name, but everyone seemed to already know, gave a curt nod to the expectant gym leader.

The man strolled out onto battlefield to replace Shay's previous challenger, a sprig of a young woman. She looked absolutely crushed, but when Brawly met with her, they paused, he exchanged a few words with her, and when quickly retreated to join the rest of the gathering crowd of onlookers, appearing mollified now.

Faye shuffled on her shoulder, feathers fluffing up and when she shook her head, the tip of her slightly hooked beak smacked Shay's neck. She quietly apologized, and Shay huffed a laugh under her breath, reaching to pat the little Taillow affectionately.

Brawly crossed the length of the field instead of taking his place opposite of her on the end. He was flashing a winning smile at her as he approached, waving briefly to the referee. He had a nice smile when he flashed it her way.

"Impressive work. You really blew through these guys like wet tissue paper. You sure you don't wanna reconsider taking on everyone before getting to me? I'd love to see more of what you have to offer," Brawly said when he was within distance of her. He gave a sparse glance over the shoulder to everyone else.

There were no bleachers in the empty space between the pokémon battlegrounds and the rest of the gym equipment elsewhere, a no-man's land made for just this occasion. Neither were there any platforms from which to stand upon for the trainers. It was all ground level, for all people—battlers and bystanders equally. Pokémon and people alike stood, side-by-side, waiting for the penultimate fight that was to come.

"You sure you don't wanna find out for yourself one-on-one instead? It'll be quicker that way," Shay retaliated, sharp and quick as a whip. The one thing she did notice the entirety of both her previous fights was how Brawly remained quiet, observant as he watched. He was looking for a chink in the armour, she surmised.

That made her all the more nervous. At least back in Rustboro, if Roxanne had been watching her, Shay hadn't been quite aware of it, and she hadn't thought of it until now.

Brawly laughed, drawing her back out of her whorling thoughts. Ambrose gently dug his claws into the material of her pants, pricking her skin from the outside. It was a firm reminder. So was the sweat slowly beading its way down the length of her spine and the slickness of her palms growing more profuse as the seconds ticked by. Her stomach was practically nonexistent, and yet she felt nauseous all the same.

"Ouch. I actually felt that one." Brawly replied with a grin, mirth gleaming in his ocean blue eyes. Plenty of Marines had that same smile. Plenty of Marines were assholes, no matter how handsome or nice-looking they were.

Christ, she was becoming cynical.

 _'Relax_ _,_ _'_ came the soft whispered word skittering through her head a second time. Itch-shiver-scratch went the back of her skull. Warmth and comfort spread along from there and down her spine, spreading out along her limbs and settling in her core. _'_ _We've got this. No distractions.'_

Shay exhaled slowly, feeling tentative but welcoming calm following up the warmth that had spread throughout her. Whether that was Ambrose's doing, or a product of her own making, it didn't matter in the end. It was welcoming to no longer feel as though her legs were going to collapse underneath her.

Brawly gave a nod to the referee, turned on his heel, and waved to her as he strolled back to his end of the field. "Don't hold back, okay? Show me what you got!"

Faye shifted once more on her trainer's shoulder and huffed. "He's too…happy. I don't trust that. There's Brendan-happy, and then there's fake-happy."

That made Shay want to burst out laughing, and she had to fight the oncoming grin without making it appear as though her face was having convulsions. She ended it swiftly enough by biting the inside of her cheek until her humour faded. When she had calmed at last, Faye rubbed her beak against Shay's cheek and added, "What? I was serious."

Before she could reply, Brawly clapped his hands three times, and the sharp report made Shay flinch.

"Well, all right then! Let's get this match going! Challenger Shay Kenway, I'm Brawly of Dewford Town Gym, and I specialize in fighting-type pokémon. Welcome to my arena! Let's get this party started!"

There was a burst of cheers that erupted from the crowd, a number of people from the crowd throwing their support toward the introduction—and of course, their number one contender to win the match. Brawly waited for the noise to simmer down before he continued.

"Challenger Shay Kenway, are you ready to smackdown?"

"Yippee-kai-yay, motherfucker," Shay remarked softly under her breath, and gave a thumbs up to the man across from her. Brawly's grin seemed to intensify and widen.

With a flick of the wrist, Brawly enlarged a pokéball after plucking it from his waist, and with the other hand, flicked back the sunglasses perched on his head back a little further.

"All right, Mas, let's get going!"

He tossed out the pokéball and in the center nova of light and energy, a Machop emerged, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. The little pokémon was lean and muscular, its skin the colour of slate and it was paired with a strangely humanoid facial structure, beset with burnt-cinnamon dark eyes. It was almost unnerving. The Machop's stubby tail remained stiff and held in an alert fashion while the Machop squared up and began stretching. It didn't look like it was tall enough to go past her hips.

Without so much as a word or prompt, Ambrose sauntered forward. The Machop paused in its butterfly leg stretches, gazing point blank at the Ralts as Ambrose settled on his side of the ring.

The referee stepped toward the midline, and with a curt nod to Shay and then Brawly, he raised his arm upwards. He held it there, suspended for dramatic pause and the crowd seemed to eat it up. A hush fell, and it was so unnervingly silent, the old adage of "could hear a pin drop" would have been accurate in this case. The referee, finally sensing the peak of suspension held long enough, sliced his arm downwards with a shout of, "BEGIN!"

Brawly was quick on the draw.

"All right, Mas, buddy! Let's hit it up with a Leer!"

Even with the sudden eruption of cheers from bystanders sitting on nearby workout benches or standing off on the sidelines, Shay could absolutely _hear_ the scoff Ambrose uttered, and _feel_ his amusement. Mas the Machop offered up its best, glowering away with its wide sienna-bright eyes but the little Ralts didn't so much as flinch. He quietly folded his arms, and even tapped a cloven hoof to show his unaffected, borderline bored, impatience.

Slowly, murmurs began to ripple across the room, too quiet to be discernable yet loud enough to be draw attention. Shay risked a spare glance and saw faces dropping in concern and curiousity alike. Brawly, in stark contrast, didn't appear worried at all from across the way. Shay was quicker on the draw than him when he finally seemed to realize his first attack hadn't worked at all. Ambrose was just as fluid in reacting as soon as Shay let loose the word, "Confusion!"

Psychic energy made tangent and visible built up around the little Ralts' form, coiling and crackling pale lavender and snapped forward lightning quick, engulfing the Machop. Mas flew back by the hit and threw a hand out to control its fall. Mas came to a stop and staggered upright,

barely able to keep the tremble out of its stance.

"Oh! Oh, that was a doozy. Oh, man," the Machop blurted, voice coming out low and even that sounded vaguely male, a broad hand flying to clutch at it—his—head. Brawly's cheerful exterior cracked only slightly as worry finally won over.

"Mas! Mas, you okay, little buddy?"

The Machop gulped down some air and waved a hand in the air at his trainer. "Fine, fine, fine! Just been awhile since we got hit hard by a psychic-type like that." Mas drew himself up and seemed to find his equilibrium once more. His shoulders squared out, his stance widened, and he brought up his fists to bear with determination hardening his features. "Let's keep going."

Brawly was appeased by Mas squaring himself back up and was quicker on the draw, his bellow of "Seismic Toss!" overshadowing Shay's shout, "Confusion!" by several octaves.

Mas was a quick little bugger. He darted in close, and faster than Shay could follow, he had grabbed up Ambrose and tossed the Ralts clear across the battlefield. Ambrose hit the ground hard, and Shay felt her heart give a painful wrench, and air gushed out of her chest as though she'd been the one flung around. Faye hissed in her ear and nipped her ear sharply.

"Focus! He'll get back up, just like he did with that Makuhita! No locking up!"

Shay had to force her lungs to remember how to breathe, relief swelling up inside her like a wave as Ambrose slowly tottered to his feet. She swallowed past the hard pit lodged in her throat when she noticed a particular…shine about Ambrose. Faye seemed to notice as well, as she sat up straight on her trainer's shoulder, alert and focused on the Ralts.

"He's close to evolving. He might just wipe the mats with them yet."

No sooner had the words left Faye's beak, the glow intensified around Ambrose until it engulfed him completely. Perplexity rushed across everyone's faces before it gave way to actual apprehension. The whispers once more started out small, and eventually grew to a hushed tide of outright shouts as Ambrose's form quickly grew. The Ralts was no longer a Ralts, but a Kirlia.

The white fur that had engulfed his entire legs had cropped up to reveal the stark seafoam green under and exposing the delicate cloven hooves beneath all that. The white fur, in contrast, had retreated to his hips, flaring out in jagged tufts. The pale horns atop his skull had changed places entirely, pointing outward from the sides now, while the seafoam green fur along his head had parted, revealing his face in full for the first time.

Ambrose was taller, yet he still retained the lean look he had as a Ralts. Unsteadily, he wobbled on his longer legs, paws tipped with sharp talons held out in front of him.

The smile that graced Shay's lips faded as the itch-shiver-scratch returned tenfold.

Panic. Unadulterated panic and…and fear.

It bled out and spread, like blood in the water; slick, hot, and painful.

She could hear Ambrose shouting in her head, even as he began crying her name aloud. She clutched at her head as the intensity grew until it was all she could hear.

"Shay—Shay, something's wrong. S-something's…something's _wrong_ , I-I can't…I can't _see_. Shay, why— _why_ can't I see? I should be able to see! Mother, she…she said I'd gain my sight when I evolved! SHAY?!"

Faye bit at her trainer's ear, hard enough to draw blood. The pain, real and physical, startled Shay and she could feel her heart hammering away in her chest like thunder incarnate.

"Get him out of there—" the Taillow began, but her words were drowned by the almighty screech that erupted from the battlefield.

Mas, perhaps on a cue from Brawly, was rushing toward the panicking Ambrose.

"Ambrose—!"

Violent psychic energy whorled around the Kirlia and caught on the Machop. As soon as Mas touched the streaks of light, he was thrust away and clear across the battlefield. His flight was stopped short by a bay window. Cracks splinted across the glass upon impact and the Machop slowly peeled off the surface and collapsed in a boneless heap on the ground.

A frightening hush befell the entirety of the gym. No one moved. Even Ambrose froze, his arm hanging in the air, eyes that were no longer hidden by a thin layer of flesh and fur growing wide as he seemed to feel out what had just happened. The arm slowly dropped away, and the energy that had encased his body vanished without a trace.

The referee overseeing the match turned his head toward Shay, composure quietly trickling over his features. He raised an arm in her direction.

"Ch…Challenger Shay Kenway wins this round."

Automatically, Shay recalled Ambrose, before another word could be spoken. Something hard and heavy settled at the base of her throat, while the feelings of residual terror and distress still crawled beneath the surface of her skin. It was fading fast, but it was difficult to shake off completely, like ants crawling all over her body, it made her prickly all over. Brawly returned Mas without a word, his collective form disappearing into the confines of his pokéball. The fear was slowly trickling back into her, anxiety breeding right alongside it as his face slid away from amusement to careful neutrality.

 _He's going to cancel the match,_ she thought, clenching and unclenching her hands. The silence dragged on, and Shay had to resist from jittering on the spot.

By some miracle, Brawly didn't cancel. Instead, the gym leader nodded to the referee, and with that signal, he motioned to Shay and then to Brawly.

"We're down to our last contenders! Are you ready?"

Her hands were shaking, but Shay offered a thumbs up, not trusting herself to talk just yet. The Taillow perched on her shoulder gently rubbed her beak against her trainer's cheek. "Wish me luck, but I doubt I need it."

With that said, Faye took to her wings and flung herself forward and daintily landed on the ground in the battlefield. Brawly managed to regain himself and called upon his second—and his last—pokémon. "Suma, let's get this over with!"

A Makuhita emerged from the confines of the pokéball, just as plump, stout, and sure-handed as the ones that inhabited Granite Cave. This Makuhita bounced on the balls of its toes, shoulders rolling loosely while fists were brought up to bear.

"All right then. Let's keep this match a clean one," the referee said, giving a plainly blunt look Shay's way. Something curled in her stomach at the point-blank stare, turning sour and upsetting. A sharp look from Faye, however, helped her focus.

"BEGIN!"

The word rang in Shay's ears, even as her own boomed out of her mouth, sharp and loud as a crack of thunder.

"Wing Attack! Get in there quick, Faye!"

Suma barely stood a chance, if he did at all.

Faye was too fast, deftly dodging the Arm Thrust attack Brawly bellowed out with laughably frightening ease. She got in close, swooping faster that Shay could follow, knocking the hefty little Makuhita clean off his dancing feet and clear across the battlefield.

Suma collapsed without so much as a hit thrown and landed. Brawly stared baldly at his fallen pokémon. The others mingling along the fringes of the match gaped, and silently turned their gazes toward Brawly. They gym leader said nothing, but the crowd was saying plenty. The referee seemed to remember himself and raised a hand in her direction.

"Challenger Shay Kenway is the winner!"

Strangely, Brawly was…smiling as the words were shouted aloud.

Shay found herself gaping, the words not quite having sunk in just yet, as the gym leader recalled Suma. When he clipped the pokéball back on his waist, he crossed the way toward her, long strides bringing him close in short order. He offered a hand toward her as Faye settled back on her trainer's shoulder. Mute and numb, realization taking longer to sink in the second time around, Shay took up Brawly's hand. He pumped three times, hand squeezing tight. Instinctively, she did the same, and the smile broadened on the gym leader's face.

"Strong grip there! That's good to know. I was starting to get worried." The smile cracked, just a smidge, but Shay noticed all the same. "Look, I'm not sure what happened there earlier, but you might want to get that Ralts—well, it's a Kirlia now, I guess…but you might want to get it in check. It really didn't handle that battle well."

Excuses lined up behind the backs of her teeth, ready to let loose. She had to swallow them back down, one by one, bitter as pills and sharp as bone. Instead, she only nodded, untrusting of her voice until she was sure it would hold steady and firm.

"I'll…I'll keep it in mind. I'm sorry about Mas. He'll be okay, right?"

"Eh…he'll walk it off after a check-up later, I'm sure. He's been tossed around by bigger and much worse, trust me."

Brawly flicked his ocean blue eyes away from her face briefly then back again. Footsteps sounded off behind Shay, soft and practiced, as Brawly moved to reach behind her. Shay sidestepped, allowing him to step forward. Another member of the gym offered a packet to the gym leader and said his thanks to them as he turned back toward Shay.

"Challenger Shay Kenway, that was an intense battle, on a number of levels. You've definitely proven you've got the grit to move forward with the League Challenge. I present to you your hard-won sum and the Knuckle Badge."

Brawly tore open the packet and plucked something out from within. It glittered as it caught light, sharp lines marking the design clear as day. A pin with the motif of a simplified clenched knuckle gleamed merrily at her. Brawly returned it back to the packet and handed the bundle in its entirety to her and offered his hand again.

"You and your team did pretty good—minus the upset, of course. I can't believe it was over that quick!"

There were mild, discontent grumbles from the gathered onlookers, although Shay paid them no heed. She had won. That was all that mattered. Let them whisper.

She had the Knuckle Badge in hand. That was all that mattered.

 _Two down, six more to go._

* * *

"Sorry about your ear."

"Mmm, yes. Because I needed yet another hole in it."

"Your words." A pause as the amusement faded. "You're going to have to let Ambrose out eventually and it should be sooner rather than later."

"What happened?" This came from Keno. Shay, however, was too busy biting back a hiss of pain as she carefully swabbed at the nick in her ear, made by one Taillow's sharp little beak rather than the piercing sting of a Cacnea's needles. After applying some antiseptic cream to the bite, she gently cleaned at the fresh piercings lining the ribbed cartilage of her ears with cleaning alcohol. Those stung less, but it still hurt, nonetheless.

Shay could see Keno staring into her reflection, that frown ever-present as he waited. She motioned for him to follow her and he did so, back into the main room, and she sat on the bed. As soon as she did, the others gathered around her.

"Ambrose evolved during the gym match," Faye finally inputted to the gathering team behind Shay. A flicker of congratulatory remarks was about to explode, before the Taillow finished with, "and then he went mad and flung the gym leader's pokémon clear across the gym. I almost thought he'd go through the glass."

Their looks of adulation melted away. Breela began to tremble and tucked in on herself as best as she could while quiet horror filtered across Keno's face. Sela and Luna exchanged a look with one another, their faces largely neutral, before turning back to Shay.

"Did they…did they kick you out?" Breela's soft voice cut through the silence. Shay flicked her gaze to meet Breela's shy glance.

"No, they didn't. We were lucky."

"We won the Knuckle Badge then?!" Keno blurted excitedly, tiger-orange eyes growing wide as can be with rapturous glee. Luna sat up straight, yellow eyes just as wide and focused; even her tail quit lashing and came to a complete standstill. Likewise, Sela appeared just as attentive, although her bushy charcoal-grey tail began wagging expectantly. Even Breela lifted her stumpy head and tilted it back to peer up at her trainer.

The anxiety that had riddled her nerves earlier was slowly vanishing and was being coated over with the soothing balm of respite. She took out the badge box from her sling pack, and popped it open, showing off the luminous new badge nestled in its place next to the Stone Badge. Faye preened her flight feathers on wing one as they admired the objects, before the mood returned to solemnity.

"What're we going to do with Ambrose?"

"It was a gym battle, and he was allowed to fight…so it should have been all right, right?" Breela said. Faye shifted her weight on Shay's shoulder, pressing briefly against the side of her neck.

"It was…excessive, what he did. If he was fighting for his life against a rival in the wild, or fending off a predator, it would have been excusable."

Something hard settled in the pit of her stomach, twisting it all up and making it hurt as she thought of the panic that had completely engulfed Ambrose. Gently, she plucked his pokéball from her belt and hit the button to expand it, releasing the newly evolved Kirlia. The others gave him space, waiting and drinking in his changed appearance.

Ambrose, in turn, showed off an impressive set of fangs, his clawed hands balled up into fists, his frame shaking from tension unreleased.

He blinked quite often, and off-kilter from one another, likely due to not being used to needing to blink.

Shay slowly lowered herself to the ground, studying the prickly Kirlia as she did. Faye leapt off her shoulder and glided to the ground to sit beside Sela, joining the semi-circle.

"Hey, Ambrose. Is…is everything okay or do you need to talk?"

The curdled expression on the Kirlia's face grew sharper. "She _lied_. She _lied_ to me and I still can't… _see_."

He waved a paw in front of his face and a low growl emanated from him. Following the aggressive snarl, a wave of unpleasantness soured the air around them, settling in her skin and making her head faintly ache, an early sign of an oncoming major headache. Ambrose lifted his head, tilting it in her direction, face crumpling in on itself.

"Why? Why would she lie to me? I-I trusted my mother—and I…I don't know—" Ambrose's voice cracked, and he stopped talking abruptly. A low, almost pained squeal hid at the back of his throat, and he could barely keep it contained. His usual composure—slick and self-assured and unruffled—was no longer there. Ambrose was broken to the core at this damning revelation.

He couldn't see. There was no fixing what most likely was a lifelong disability. Ambrose was not a Zubat equivalent unrealized, living the first part in his life blind and his sight would not come to him like it would to a newly evolved Golbat. It was a gut-wrenching, despondent revelation to hit the moment. The very room seemed to drop in temperature, adding to the miserable atmosphere.

Keno fiddled with his broad hands and exchanged a look with Shay. She shuffled forward on her knees, hands held out in front of her, gently tapping the sides of Ambrose's arms. Before anyone could rightfully react, he sank to his knees, his paws unclenching to grip the sides of his head as he collapsed in her lap. His arms, now longer yet still lanky as always, clutched at her tightly as he buried his face in her chest.

Whatever words he spoke were lost in unintelligible garble, but what he felt was projected just fine. Everyone, with the exception of Sela, seemed to flinch and curl in on themselves at the expulsion of raw emotion being expressed via the mental connection he allowed to spill over beyond Shay.

Without prompting, Shay pulled him in closer, one arm tucking underneath Ambrose while the other draped over him. He was roughly the size of a small toddler now, but he slipped in against her with one paw clutching her front and the other draped beneath her arm and snaked around her back. She wriggled—halfway from a ticklish response, the other from mild discomfort bordering pain—as claws easily caught through her clothing and began to prick her skin.

"Easy, easy—claws, buddy—"

The tightening grip lessened fractionally, and the tiny pinpricks of claws retreated, but the pads of his paws remained lodged in place. Shay held him in her lap, whilst the others pressed in close.

For a long while, they remained together as such, a giant ball made up of differing bodies. It lasted for perhaps an hour or so, before the stiffness began to take on uncomfortable qualities and the sun began to dip and shine its dying light across the world before any of them moved.

Ambrose was the first.

"Why would she lie to me? She _promised_ …"

Whatever else he had left to say died on his tongue and he lapsed into exhausted silence. Shay breathed in deep, her grip tightening as she hugged the Kirlia to her.

"I was the guinea pig child in my family. I was the oldest," she started off quietly. "And sometimes…it wasn't fair. What I had to go through, sometimes my younger brother didn't. I didn't understand it growing up and I always thought it unfair. My mom eventually saw it that way, but at the time she did things, she couldn't see it that way. It was like we were being raised differently, and in a way, we were. Sometimes, the things she believed to work, they didn't with me, and she had to change things for my brother."

She was rambling. Rambling without a point, like an idiot. Frantically, she sought for one, feeling her words stumbling over one another until she managed to unstring them and yank apart the ones she wanted.

"But…as I got older, I realized that certain things my mom did was out of love—mostly to keep me from feeling different or other than from everyone else, but…sometimes it didn't help. Long story short, I had a mixed bag as a kid growing up. Outside sources made it harder for her, made it even harder for me, and a helluva lot easier for my brother for a number of reasons. He's been getting better, though, over the last year or two."

The taste in her mouth grew sour and acidic and above all else, stale. Her throat pinched together in a brief moment of emotion.

"It sucked, hard. Okay? It did. It. Sucked. For a long…long time, I really disliked how my mom did or said things. But I learned later that she didn't do it out of spite or for laughs or because she thought she knew everything from the get-go until she found out otherwise—"

"What's your point?" Ambrose interrupted brusquely, his tone flat, fatigued.

"My point is…sometimes our moms want to comfort us. Sometimes, they tell us half-truths—and sometimes, they tell us things that aren't true, but it's unsuspecting or it's to make us feel better, or to not fall into a pit of despair. I don't know your mom, personally, but it's possible that she told you that you'd gain your vision out of hope. Hope for you, most of all. It's possible she didn't know that you'd remain blind for the rest of your life and was trying to reach for the best for you. Reassure you, even if she didn't know for sure herself. Sometimes…its white lies to keep you happy. I've…I've had them all, honestly."

Ambrose said nothing. Neither did the others. The shadows in the room slowly began to grow long and dusky grey as the minutes wore on until they were sitting in shades of darkness seemed to bruise. It remained quiet as time wore on.

Ambrose's grip on her tightened, yet remained careful above all else, realizing his talons were longer than in his previous form. He eventually pulled himself into an upright position, still holding onto Shay as he did. The others gathered around her shifted in accordance, but ultimately, they stayed close, listening, remaining quiet.

"I'm sorry," Shay finally admitted in a hushed whisper. "I'm sorry, I don't have the answers. If you want, I-I can have the center staff look you over, maybe they can help—"

"No."

It was a curt, prompt response from the Kirlia. He breathed deep, and one arm came loose and then in short order so did the other. Slowly, Ambrose collected himself, yet he remained close at hand, unwilling to separate himself from the young woman.

"No. I…I know that this is…this is for life, and pretending otherwise, it would just…keep me in a frenzy. I won't think straight if I start deluding myself otherwise." His breathing was controlled, measured, calculated…strained yet calm. "She wanted what was best and she was…she was trying to give me hope."

"Hope of what? Remaining blind?" Sela blurted out bluntly, only to earn a sharp elbow in her side from Keno. Her yelp developed into an unfettered rumble, but a flick of Luna's tail in her face distracted her long enough to disrupt the pattern.

Ambrose smiled, in spite of the comment.

"Yes, actually. It wasn't what either of us desired, but…she wanted to prepare me. She taught me all I needed to walk the world the way I already was, not in the way I would have if I were like her, my brother, the rest of the clan. But I'm grateful, either way."

The Kirlia carefully got back up onto his feet, wobbling until he was steady. The others, by some unspoken agreement, broke apart from the clustered ball they had all gathered in at the foot of the bed. Shay was the last to get up, and she stretched as she did, feeling some parts of her popping or aching in delight from the sudden use and movement.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Ambrose fell quiet. "Will Mas be all right?"

"Brawly said he'd be fine," Shay confirmed. She reached for the lamp sitting on the bedside table and winced as the light seared her eyes before turning back to everyone. "Any of you guys hungry at all?"

A low murmur of consenting agreement wobbled between the team. Ambrose was the last to reply, but there was a trace of a smile pulling at his lips. It was only slightly unnerving now that he had honest-to-goodness eyes that were lifted to her face—even if they couldn't technically see her.

Regardless…Shay was glad that Ambrose had calmed, and he was agreeing to food.

It was when someone refused food or any other creature comforts that things were well and truly going down the drain, one habit at a time.

One thing at a time. One step, small or otherwise, at a time.

* * *

 _ **Additional Notes**_ **: Family's complicated on all sorts of levels.**

 **Now, to lob some info at you once again!**

 **PFT: _Physical Fitness Test_. It consists of three parts: conducting twenty pull ups (for men) or doing a seventy-second dead-man's hang (for women); achieving one-hundred crunches; and lastly, a three-mile run. The longer you take, the lower your overall score will be. For men, the best and top tier time is around eighteen minutes. For women, it's roughly around twenty-one to twenty-two minutes. The lowest score before failure is roughly around the twenty-eight-minute mark for men and thirty-one to thirty-three-minute mark for women. PFTs are conducted from January 1st to July 31st of a year and are done in skivvy shorts and shirt and running shoes. Exceptions include those who are pregnant or recovering from medical issues (surgery, broken limb, etc.).**

 **CFT: _Combat Fitness Test_. This test consists of three parts as well: a half-mile run (timed, similar in fashion to a PFT; the longer you take, the lower your score); ammo can lifts (much like lifting weights, but it's done above the head); and maneuver under fire (an "obstacle course" that consists of differing crawls, agility testing, fireman carry of another individual, and ammo can carry). The ammo cans must be thirty-pounds each, and the individual you carry must be within ten pounds of your weight class—either ten pounds up, or ten pounds below (this is prone to change dependent on conditions being met or being compromised). CFTs are conducted from August 1s to December 31st and are done in cammie trousers, blouse (maneuver under fire only), and boots. Exceptions include those who are pregnant or recovering from medical issues (surgery, broken limb, etc.).**


	21. Chapter Twenty: Moving On

**Chapter Twenty:  
** **Moving On**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: Apologies for the lengthy absence. When school kicked into gear, my time was monopolized by the load work that followed. It's been stressful and tiring this semester, especially when I had to unexpectantly put one of my cats to sleep due to an extremely aggressive form of cancer he had little chance of recovering from. I still have the good health of my other kitties (and my family as well), but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with. I lost one of my fur-babies, and there were no good options to choose from where he'd come out of it alive and healthy.**

 **Also, in remarks to last chapter: I feel as though Brawly gets the unfortunate luck of having his pokémon getting beat the fuck down in several Nuzlocke runs. It's as though by some unspoken agreement that he and his gym by default is the one to suffer breakdowns, anguish, or beatdowns from characters the most in the beginning of stories. I feel kind of bad for him.**

 **Lastly, I've had some very inappropriate reviews/private messages lately. Please don't hawk your hookup or dating propositions with me. It's perverse and unwanted. I'd greatly appreciate it if the unwelcome solicitation could end here and now, please.**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Kirlia, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

 **Badges Won** **: Stone Badge, Knuckle Badge**

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

" _In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on."  
_ **—Robert Frost**

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

The midday sun beat down on the region of Hoenn with cheerful forbearance. Barely any clouds scuttled across the expanse of the clear and wide blue yonder, but a briny breeze whispered across both the docks and the sea's watery surface. Cloudy water lapped at the algae-covered stanchions. A flock of Wingull cried out constantly up above or on the tops of sailing boat masts or the railing of modern ships or from the distant beach or from the tops of buildings. Most of their words overlapped one another, but a great number of words were largely related to food.

"Food! Find food!" Several of the Wingull called out.

"Lunch! It's lunchtime, let's eat!" Others echoed.

"Hungry, so hungry!" One or two more added.

A pair of Pelipper skimmed along the waves, wings flaring as they caught an updraft. They continued on their flight, cresting over the frothing waters until they faded in the distance. Shay watched them until their forms disappeared into the fine haze of sea salt spray and a faint slip of mist rolling in from across the bay.

Shay turned her attentions toward Sela as she yelped when a trio of Wingull came swooping over her head and one of them grew especially bold by gently plucking at one of her stubby horns. With a snap and a snarl, they winged away at the Poochyena, laughing as they did. Sela turned her maraschino-bright eyes on Shay.

"I want roasted Wingull tonight." She intoned gravely, teeth bright and bared, her snout wrinkled as the faintest hint of a glow emanated along the curves of her lips.

"And I want a ten million bucks," Shay shot back, shifting her weight off her left leg. Sela stared at her for a long moment, but the glow eventually faded into a faint curling of smoke and Sela stalked away down the docks. Keno exchanged a knowing glance with his trainer, sharing a faint grin before he ambled after Sela.

"He's coming this way," a voice called ahead. Shay shifted her glance upwards, searching until she found Faye perched along the boom of sailing boat moored along the docks. Faye ruffled her feathers and began to preen her flight feathers several times.

"Lass! There ye are!"

Shay dropped her eyes and found a familiar burly figure sauntering toward her, bushy-bearded and all. A Wingull, more glossy-feathered and plump than the wild ones, sat perched on his shoulder but as soon as she spotted Shay, she leapt into the air. Her long, thin wings clipped upwards as a draft caught them and she soared over Shay's head, webbed feet lashing out to gentle tousle the woman's hair before circling back around to land back on Mister Briney's shoulder.

He let out a booming laugh as he stopped just before Shay, his bright eyes twinkling merrily.

"So good t' see ye, lass! An' in much better conditions than the least time. That eye o' yers is just about healed up! Good t' see, good t' see."

"And it's great to see you in better spirits, too, Mister Briney. And you too, Peeko. You're looking much better."

Peeko squealed happily, beak clacking as she did. "Good to see you too! Much better looking, like Mister Briney says!"

Mister Briney laughed at his Wingull's antics and reached up to gently pat her. Peeko leaned into his calloused hand, clattering her beak even more as she ruffled her pristine white feathers once again.

"I got yer message from the Dewford Town Pokémon Center staff; can't believe I overlooked that m'self, but I suppose we were a bit occupied when we, ah, made port a few weeks back."

Shay recalled rather clearly on that matter. Cops waiting on the dock, cops ready to grab her and take her away again. It seemed to be the story of her life since her tenure was struck in Hoenn. She was beginning to feel an anxious itch crawling under her skin whenever she saw a cop in uniform nowadays.

Her thoughts came to a halt at the soft clutch of claws gently plucking along the material of her pants and she shot a quick glance down to see Ambrose beside her. She reached down to palm the back of his head and he leaned into her touch. A wash of warmth and sensation of comfort flowed up her fingertips at the contact, spreading up her arm and through the rest of her.

She returned to the moment of here and now, refocusing her attentions back on Mister Briney.

"Well, I'm glad that I got their message an' I'm happy t' help. How fares yer gym challenge, by the way?"

Shay finally found a smile carving her lips upwards. "We won against Brawly, and we're ready to head to Slateport, if it isn't too much trouble."

"Oh, no trouble at all, lass," Mister Briney replied with a grin of his own. "Follow me, an' we'll head on out afore the day's come an' gone!"

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

The trip to Slateport was, thankfully, extremely uneventful. No chummed up indigenous fish species, no predatory Sharpedo sloughing through the bloodied waters, nothing. There were a number of fishing trawlers skimming the waters, swimmers treading water along shoals. Pokémon darted along through the sea or flew high up overhead as the _Seafarer_ carved a trail of wake water behind it as they headed to Slateport.

Slateport settled into sight before long, breaking the monotonous azure distance as they drew closer. Only a few piers and docks lined the south end of the city, but most of the space was reserved for the beach and its multitude of visitors. Children splashed about in the waters, many of them accompanied by a pokémon companion of some sort. Most were water-types, but there were a few exceptions.

Mister Briney sidled the Seafarer along one of the empty docks. The rumble of the engine slowed to a veritable crawl until it seemed to disappear altogether.

Despite his protests about being too old, Shay watched as Mister Briney scuttled about, moving with fluid assuredness and a pep in his step as he did.

 _He might not be a spring chicken, but he's far from being unable to work,_ she mused as she gathered her things and the team patiently waited until the _Seafarer_ was safely moored. Peeko was the first to usher them toward the gangplank after Mister Briney set it up, flitting about in the air. Faye joined the little Wingull, and the two engaged in a game of tag.

"Welcome to Slateport, lass! Watch yer step, all of ye. Oh, an' before I forget…"

Mister Briney, standing by the gunwale, shuffled forward and stuffed a hand into a pocket. He pulled a slip of folded paper out and presented it to Shay. She stared at the paper, flicking her gaze upwards toward the older man's face questioningly.

"My contact information, in case ye ever need a bit o' support out on the deep blue."

Shay's mouth formed a small 'O' shape at his explanation and hesitated in reaching for it.

"Are…are you sure?" It was contact information. A simple number. And yet…the implications behind it were a bit much.

Mister Briney responded with a booming laugh, one which Peeko echoed with equal fervor in her higher-pitched voice.

"Of course, wee lassie! I owe ye a great favour! I don't have any bairn o' me own, an' Peeko…well, she's the closest I ever got t' having any."

Peeko dove down sharply from midair, cutting short the game she had been engaged with Faye in, flaring her wings at the last moment to land on Mister Briney's shoulder. He beamed as the little Wingull pressed her tiny body against the side of his neck and face, cooing softly.

"There, there, Peeko. It's all right," Mister Briney said in a hushed voice, before he offered the paper once more to Shay, his wide grin softening up by several degrees. "Take it. Ye need all th' help ye can get. Trust me."

With less reluctance the second go around, Shay plucked the offered slip of information and jammed it into her pants pocket, a small smile plucking at her own lips.

"Thanks, Mister Briney."

"Ah, no trouble at all, lassie. Oh, an' if yer not up fer headin' straight into town right away, there's a wee shack ye can stop by at an' rest up in, just further down that way. Ye can't miss it; it's called the Seashore House!"

A tug on her pantleg told Shay that there was a restlessness from some of her team members that would not be ignored. She bid Mister Briney and Peeko both goodbye, and followed after her team, leaving the hardpacked solidness of wooden planks to the shifting nature of sand. It crunched underfoot and she could feel the heat shimmering off of it as the sun continued to cheerfully blaze on from above.

Hefting her pack more carefully on her shoulders, she grunted and watched as people lounged on beach towels, ran up and down the shoreline, played a series of games, built sandcastles, or frolicked with children and pokémon. There were at least two lifeguard towers that Shay could see, and over in the distance, just as Mister Briney had said, there was a kind of seaside rest shack, quiet and resolute where it stood. It really was a beautiful day, with the sun warmly beating down, a slight welcoming breeze with the taste of brine in the air…

Perhaps they could come back here, if they stayed for a few days longer than planned. They could train, and enjoy a day or two at the beach, all in one go. She missed the beach. She hadn't been as keen on pitching the idea to the team when they had been in Dewford, but they had some downtime now.

First things first, though; I have to deliver this part to Captain Stern, and after that, we can take time for ourselves before the long stretch to New Mauville.

It would have to wait, though. They'd need to settle in at the Pokemon Center, if there were even any rooms available, and after that, they'd need some food and rest.

A tug on her arm, gentle but insistent, drew Shay out of her plan-making and she glanced down at Keno. He stared at her with those tiger-orange eyes, a question burning in his gaze. He made a motion toward the shack.

"Would you mind if we stopped at that place Mister Briney told us about? I'm feeling a bit dry."

"I'm getting a bit thirsty myself," Sela concurred, and soon a chorus of agreements burst forth from the others. Shay surveyed them all, noting the slightly wilting expressions on their faces. She eyed the shack, taking in how far it was and realized it would take some time to locate and travel to the Pokémon Center.

With a sigh and a faint smile, Shay gave a nod of approval.

"Yeah, we can rest up. I'm sorry, you guys. I didn't even think of food or drinks for the boat ride."

"It's okay, Shay. Don't feel too bad. We didn't really say anything, not until now, I mean." Keno remarked, giving her arm a good-natured pat with his broad hand. Shay could already tell his skin was actually feeling pretty dry, and that made her concern bubble up more.

She paused long enough to scoop Breela up into her arms and led the way toward the shack.

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

Their occupancy at the shack had been an interesting, to say the least, as far as Shay had been concerned.

It wasn't a particularly noteworthy place or overtly stunning, but it had its rustic charms that tailored itself to the image of "seaside shack" as far as decorum went. Fishnets strung up here and there, worn and salt-weathered wood that had probably never seen a lacquered-finished day in its life, and of course the low artificial lighting that gave way to the more ambient natural lighting of the sun during daylight hours.

There had bene plenty of people milling about and as soon as Shay had stepped inside with her team, all eyes converged on them. It had been slightly unnerving, like she had suddenly stepped into a Wild West setting, and the only way to wipe the atmosphere of the tension was to either defuse the room or prepare for a shootout.

Luckily enough, no one drew guns, but a number of people were gripping pokéballs at their sides or from inside their beach-going bags.

Eventually, it had all come to a head. The man who owned the shack confirmed what Shay already knew: this place was a place of battle, where people had to earn their beverages and snacks.

"But, you're going to have to take it outside! I don't need my place trashed all to hell, got it?"

Shay was surprised at just how easy it had been to work her way through the five contenders that had stepped up to issue their challenges against her. She was especially proud of Breela, who stepped up marvelously with her combination of powdered attacks and health-draining attacks. Breela worked great against the water-types most of the occupants had on their teams, whilst Faye handled the rest.

By the time they had finished all the trainers, retrieved their prizes and sat down for a reprieve, the sun was dipping low in the sky and most beachgoers were beginning to pack up and leave for the day.

The walk from the Seashore House to Slateport proper hadn't been as arduous or long as Shay had anticipated, but it took time to navigate the streets to find the Pokémon Center. By the time they made it there, it was well after dark and the hike had exhausted just about everyone.

There were rooms, thankfully enough, and after a concurrence by tired votes upon reaching theirs, food would just have to be delivered. Even after being healed by the nurses, the team and Shay alike all simply wanted to rest in peace.

"All we did was take a boat ride and I'm tired," Keno sighed as he flopped boneless onto the mattress. Luna hopped up right next to him and after stretching, curled up beside the Marshtomp's head.

"Mmmm. Same. I didn't think that beach would end."

"Easy for you to say," Sela grunted at the pink kitten. "You slept the entire boat ride and hardly did any battling. All you did was walk today."

"Yes, and my paws are killing me. It was good exercise, however," Luna purred back, eyes narrowed to pleased slits. Sela shook her head with a soft snort. Shay collapsed on Keno's other side and groaned.

"Don't talk about the beach anymore. We gotta make a game plan for tomorrow."

"Too tired. Let's do it in the morning," Luna mumbled, curling into a ball and tucking her face under her tail.

"Sorry, Luna, but we've got a delivery to complete or we'll have a very rich man with a lot of power and resources and goons at his disposal gunning for our asses if we don't."

Luna grumbled discontentedly from beneath her tail but uncurled it to peep one eye open.

With great reluctance, Shay sat up as the others hopped or clambered onto the bed. Keno sat upright as well, stooping to pluck Breela from the ground and deposited her between himself and Shay.

Bringing up her x-transceiver, she fussed with the controls just enough to bring up Slateport's city map and scrolled across it until she found the eastern docks.

"So, we're supposed to be looking for Captain Stern," she said, motioning to the area she'd selected. "He owns a few warehouses, and the ferry service, so he should be around here somewhere."

 _And I don't even know why, but I'm hoping against all hope he isn't at the Oceanography Museum, so we don't have to deal with any Team Aqua bullshit. But, chances are, we're gonna have to go schlepping around doing just that._

It still couldn't hurt to check nor hope for the best, but it was better to brace for the worst.

"What if he's sick and we have to go to his house?" Breela interrupted softly with a shudder. "What if…what if his people won't tell us where he is? Can we just leave the stuff with them?"

Shay rubbed the back of her head with her free hand. "I really don't think so. Mister Stone was really insistent that this be delivered to Captain Stern and not a proxy." Shay paused, trying to recall the man's exact words, frowning. "Or, that's the way he made it sound. He doesn't want them falling into the wrong hands, so it'd probably be a safer bet to give the stuff to him in person."

She hadn't thought of the alternatives that Breela had just brought up until now.

 _What if, what if, what if?_

The endless spiraling negative scenarios began to flood her thoughts and it was difficult dissuading them to disperse, to go away entirely. When the seemed to be nothing but a buzz at the back of her mind, she tried to imagine ahead of time what it would be like to meet someone she's never seen before—aside from game sprite art—and how well the meeting would go. Various conversations whittled away at the time in her head. Things she could say or might try to say danced throughout her thoughts. It made the knots inside her gut twist all the tighter with anxiety as the toxic little thoughts of _what if, what if, what if_ came back into play.

It kept her awake, even as the hours ticked by and her exhaustion played havoc on her, yet not nearly enough to drive her sleep and everyone else were slumbering. The hours dragged on, and the jitteriness kept her wide awake.

It was the same as every night before a gym match. The frazzled disquiet kept her from sleeping. Paired with her insomnia, it was an unpleasant combination that left her tossing and turning, restless and unwilling to get up and do anything other than laying around, waiting for sleep to come.

She wished she had her computer. She wished she had her iPod. She wished for a lot of things, and the temptation to call Norman to send both to her was ever present, ever-tempting. Especially when she was having nights such as these, where she felt restless, aching and tired, but not enough to sleep.

The urge was strong tonight, however, and she shifted her attentions to trying to imagine a conversation that could go her way, if she called Norman in the morning, begged him to send her things to her. Sleep eventually came for her, as she tried to think of ways that she could safely protect her electronics from all manner of weather and environments. It was a restive sort of sleep, but it was better than nothing at all. Was that what counted, in the end?

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

 ** _Extra Notes_ : For clarity's sake, I have written and rewritten this chapter alone at least three times, because I could not find a satisfactory way to push the narrative forward without the transitive motions. I am so, so sorry my lovely readers for the wait. As I mentioned before as well, my semester has been quite heavy on the workload and it hasn't been easy to balance things.**

 **On a much lighter note, over on my tumblr, I've made some headway in art pieces! Sketches mostly, but I'm sure you'll enjoy them, if you care to take a look-see! Lastly, I have been toying with the idea of a separate story to post at a later date, as I'm only in the infancy stages of planning, but I have written out a few things to test the waters on how well I feel it stands. I'll be sure to keep y'all updated regarding the matter if things develop any further!**

 **As always, please be sure to leave a review if you liked the story, and I feel like I have to reiterate this point as well: please keep your unwanted hookup solicitations to yourself. I'm not interested, I will never be interested, and it is highly inappropriate! So kindly fuck off, if that's the only reason you're here.**


	22. Chapter Twenty-One: Girl in the War

**Chapter Twenty-One:**

 **Girl in the War**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: Happy Christmas, my lovely readers! And welcome to my new followers and readers! Thank you so much for taking the time to read and enjoy this story. I really, really appreciate it, and every email notification I receive for every new reader gives me an incredibly fuzzy warm feeling inside me.  
**

 **On another note, I hope that all of you, wherever you are and however you celebrate the year's end, that you have a wonderful holiday season. Whatever you may celebrate, I wish you the merriest of holidays and a wonderful new year's! I'm so grateful for everyone being here and for reading my story, and I hope that you guys say hello in the reviews sometime soon. If you ever have a chance, my lovelies, please feel free to say hello in the comments!**

 **In the meantime, accept this chapter as an early holiday gift!**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Kirlia, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

 **Badges Won** **: Stone Badge, Knuckle Badge**

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

 _Paul said to Peter  
"You gotta rock yourself a little harder;  
Pretend the dove from above is a dragon and your feet are on fire,"  
And I got a girl in the war, Paul the only thing I know to do  
Is turn up the music and pray that she makes it through._

 _Because the keys to the kingdom got locked inside the kingdom  
And the angels fly around in there, but we can't see them.  
And I gotta girl in the war, Paul I know that they can hear me yell  
If they can't find a way to help, they can go to Hell.  
If they can't find a way to help her, they can go to Hell._

—" **Girl in the War" by Josh Ritter**

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

The city of Slateport was steeped in the briny scent of the sea. It brought back old memories long since faded of spending days at the beach when Shay had been much younger with both friends and family alike. Dewford had offered much the same nostalgia, although Shay hadn't had much of a moment or two of spare time to even consider a day at the beach.

 _We still have a job to do,_ Shay reminded herself. She was on the clock, and it was a constant that she couldn't afford to forget or put off. The subtle threat of having a powerful business after her was not something she wanted to have hanging over her head for much longer.

That was why she was out and about now, heading east toward the docks through winding streets with the sun beating down pleasantly against her shoulders. Faye flew up overhead, providing helpful navigation as they went. Breela shivered in Shay's arms, enjoying a little sunning herself, and a soft, pleasant scent wafted up every so often from the Shroomish.

Compared to the parts and paperwork in Shay's sling-pack, however, the Shroomish felt considerably light.

The part's weight itself wasn't the issue. It was the burden of everything that entailed to it.

If Captain Stern got this part, then the refitting of his submarine would be complete. Team Aqua would eventually steal it and cause a whole lot more problems. Problems that could potentially destroy this world, but that's how it went with Legendary and Mystical pokémon being disturbed by meddling humans, wasn't it? They had the potential powers to destroy parts of the world…or the whole entirety of it.

She felt the itch-shiver-scratch before the voice came skittering through, piercing the veil of her tempestuous thoughts.

' _You're overthinking things again.'_ Shay found her eyes drawn to the Kirlia on instinct, but he didn't turn his head or offer a smile. His gait was growing better, now that he was more accustomed to his longer limbs. He kept his head sternly forward, although his ears lifted or lowered slightly every so often, as though adjusting to compensate to the noises around him.

 _What do you suggest I do then? Not worry?_

' _Yes. If things to come are as you've briefly laid out to us, then they'll come.'_

 _What if I can change things, though? What if we can prevent all the bad shit to come?_

' _Do you think anyone would listen to you if you tried?'_

That made Shay's stomach flip over itself. Breela twitched in her arms, and Shay mumbled an apology, realizing her arms had been squeezing the Shroomish. Gently, she massaged the small Shroomish in her arms with her fingers and shot a glance at Ambrose again.

' _Would changing things be wise?'_

 _Me being here has already changed things. I shouldn't be here in the first—_

' _Whatever misgivings you have regarding Norman's late daughter isn't your fault. You keep holding on to that guilt, like you're the one who brought down the plane that ended her life.'_

That sent a sudden lance of agony shooting through Shay's chest and she came to an abrupt stop, lungs refusing to pump air in or out, her throat constricting as the words ping-ponged around in her head. An ironclad vice slowly crushed out whatever air she had left in her, and she forgot how to breath. Sound bled away until nothing but a sharp, persistent ringing and the pounding tempo of her heartbeat overshadowed everything else.

She could just see Keno stopping a few steps ahead of her, turning to ask her something, with Luna and Sela flanking him. Ambrose was just barely in her peripheral, his head tilted up toward her. Keno's mouth moved, but whatever he asked, it was muted, distant. Shay struggled to slip a breath in or out, almost as though the oxygen was stripped bare of this part of the world.

Even with the ringing, the words in her head kept coming through, unperturbed and perfect in clarity.

 _It is, though, isn't it? Me being here is enough. I'm not special—_

' _Whoever said you had to be special to be in a certain place at a certain time? Stories and fairytales, but does it really have to be someone special to step up and do something? What matters is someone standing up to oppose what is clearly wrong, or at least, standing up to help what they believe what's right, whether they're small or large and if they have the strength to or not.'_

Shay closed her eyes, squeezing tight, bracing her arms to keep from doing the same, an icy shudder bolting down the length of her back.

 _Do you believe I'm doing something right? Or am I doing everything wrong by following what's essentially a story in my world about this whole place?_

When she peeked her eyes open, Ambrose was grinning toothily at her.

' _What do you think is right or wrong? Isn't that the whole point of writing the story yourself?'_

Shay twitched, and renewed life surged into her. Swiveling toward Ambrose, anger and irritation swelled in her chest, along with a fresh sea-scented breath of fresh air.

"What the hell am I supposed to do, then?! Just sit around, twiddling my thumbs, wondering 'what can I do?'"

Keno jumped a half-step back, while Luna scattered away, the ridge of fur along her spine bristling. A few people along the sidewalks stopped to stare, while several others barely gave her glance and only increased their stride to hurry away.

Shay greedily sucked in another breath, expelling it in a hurried, heavy fashion as she glowered at Ambrose.

"I don't know what you want from me! I don't know what to do and I'm just…" Shay swallowed, the lump in her throat slowly making a return. "I'm just so fucking tired of trying to figure shit out on my own."

"Um…" Breela said quietly in Shay's arms, giving a tremble every so often. "I…I think I'm missing something, but…you're not alone, Shay. Whatever might be bothering you, you know that we're here, right?"

Keno hesitated, shooting furtive looks between Ambrose and his trainer, but he gave a nod to Shay after a few moments of deliberating.

"Breela's right. We work as a team, or we don't get anywhere at all. That's the whole point in being together, isn't it?"

Shay closed her eyes, jaw clenched so tightly, it hurt and she winced when her teeth ached in protest.

"I'm sorry. I'm just…trying to figure things out."

"With only Ambrose and not with all of us. _Again_ ," Sela pointed out with a snort, her maraschino-red eyes bright and suspicious as she regarded the Kirlia.

The woman winced, but knew the accusation was fair enough, even if she didn't want to completely admit it. It was hard hiding things from a psychic-type and Shay hadn't the foggiest just how difficult it truly was. Only assumptions and vague readings from other stories.

That alone wasn't really touching upon her concerns, it was the least of them, to be honest. Shay released one of her arms holding Breela to reach up and pinch the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezing shut again.

"I'm sorry," she said more quietly. "I'm sorry, you guys. I don't mean to…shut you out, it's not intentional. I just have a lot of things on my mind. So much more than the whole 'working together' side of things, or delivering this part or…"

Shay expelled a breath she'd been holding and shook her head. "It's everything."

Keno remained quiet for the longest time before he piped up again. "It's about you going home too, isn't it?"

The question hung baldly between them all, steeping the tension into the thick of things. Shay found she had no other words and instead inclined her head at him. It was half the answer. Keno seemed to sense this, and his mouth pulled down a bit more.

"It's also about…everything we're doing and what's been going on."

She nibbled on her lip and nodded. Whatever well of confidence and recklessness she usually drew from was bone dry now, leaving her mute and incapable of answering any further. Stubborn and awkward silence was a specialty of hers. When she had no answers, she just shut up and hoped that the silence alone would be answer enough to get people to stop pestering her. The only usual responses she could ever really muster revolved around apologies and not knowing everything and apologizing again for that too. They came bubbling up, threatening to spill out past her lips now. Shay swallowed them back, not allowing them to tempt the tip of her tongue with their honeyed sweetness, a comforting fallback excuse to land on.

Keno shot another glance toward Ambrose before scooting closer toward Shay, gently touching her elbow. Sela prowled in close behind him and settled between him and Ambrose. "You don't have to have all the answers all at once. I know I don't, and neither does Ambrose."

Ambrose sighed flippantly, crossing his arms over his narrow chest, but he did consent a small nod. "He is right. I don't have the answers. None of us do. But most of all, you certainly don't need to, and worrying about it constantly…it's not helping. You worry about what someone who isn't here would do, and how you think things should go, if you should change things or keep to a rigid, narrow line on the ground set before you."

The Kirlia tilted his head down, as though he was gazing at the cracks in the sidewalk.

"I was playing devil's advocate and it wasn't fair to push you like that, especially when you do have much to worry about. But, perhaps a word of advice, if you'll take it?"

Even when Shay knew he couldn't see it, she nodded all the same, knowing he sensed her consent. Ambrose offered a somber smile in response.

"Don't worry about what May would have done. What do _you_ want to do? Do that instead. If things change…perhaps it was meant to be that way in the end. If they don't, then that's the way they were likely to be instead. You won't know unless you shed yourself of the constant wondering and worrying. And don't rush things. Take the time you know we all need, including yourself."

Shay mulled over what Ambrose said, casting her eyes over her team. Faye had come to join the entourage, perching on a railing beside manicured trees following the length of sidewalk they were on. Keno offered her another encouraging grin, and it coaxed one from Shay as she sighed, shoulders drooping and for once, they felt lighter than they've been for weeks.

"I'm sorry, everyone. I know I've been kind of…difficult lately. I'll try to lighten up."

Keno patted her arm, and another spritz of pleasant smells wafted from Breela coiled in her arms. Luna cleared her throat, yellow eyes half-lidded and gleaming.

"I'm sorry, but are we going to get going? As touching as this all was, we still have a job to complete, don't we?"

Shay cleared her throat. "Yeah. Yeah, we do. Thanks, Faye."

Faye regarded her trainer for a brief second or two before she took off, winging it up into the air once more, narrow wings spread as she glided easily ahead of them. Sela fell into step beside Shay.

"As much as I hate admitting it, the psychic is right. You let things fester, it'll come out eventually, and not in the way you want them to." Her claws clicked along the concrete as they pressed onward, and as they turned a corner, the sight of the docks and warehouses loomed ahead of them. "And you do know you can talk to us about things. Even if it's to vent, you should do it. Bottling things up won't help any of us."

Shay bit back another automatic response she wanted to snap out, as prickly as it was defensive; "I know."

Instead she gave another mute nod, appreciative of the offer from the Poochyena.

 _They're not my Marines. This isn't a rank hierarchy,_ she had to remind herself. _They're my team, and I can't always shield them from things._

Even if that meant doing things a different way than what she had grown used to for almost a decade, then so be it.

It was hard being an old dog learning new tricks, but she was determined, if not stubborn, to do so.

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

"The warehouses were a bust, the shipyard was a bust. Last stop, the Slateport Oceanic Museum."

The museum itself was located in a central hub of activity along the northwestern end of the city's boardwalk, where a number of restaurants, tourist shops, and street vendors hawking their wares or ocean wildlife tours sprawled out.

 _It's kind of like San Francisco at the Fisherman's Wharf,_ Shay thought with a nostalgic smile touching her lips as she watched a crowd gather around some dancers showing off their skills. Not far from them were a number of stalls with handcrafted jewelry and charms, attracting a number of people to them as well. And in between them all were the pokémon. More than Shay could count or identify. _Or maybe it's like Venice Beach. Maybe both._

The building that she and her team were headed toward held her attention the most, however. They weaved their way through the boardwalk crowds, heralding closer to the building as they pressed onward. As they approached, the front doors burst open, and a pair of women came hurrying out. They quickly laced their hands together and pressed in close to one another, as though finding comfort in the other's presence and touch. One of them cast a look over her shoulder, grimacing, before turning back to her partner.

"—really annoying, isn't it?"

"Ugh, don't get me started," her partner replied with a shake of her head. "Those guys just swarmed in; I didn't even notice until all I could see were stripes wherever we turned! Is there some kind of convention in town, or something—"

Shay exchanged a look with her team, then glanced back at the couple as they hurried away into crowds lining the boardwalks, their conversation drifting away quicker than their feet could carry them.

"That does not bode well, does it now?" Sela remarked flatly, ears pressing tightly to her head.

"Agreed," Faye softly agreed. Breela quivered in Shay's arms as Luna sniffed at the ground before her ears splayed backwards with a hiss.

"The man who tried beating you a few weeks back…I remember his scent on you. And he's here now. It's faint, but I smell it."

Sela got up to join Luna and drove her own nose to the ground. A few sniffs later and a growling snort issued from her maw.

"She's right. I can smell that bastard, clear as day. He _is_ here."

Shay felt a heavy, deep sigh well up in her chest and she arduously expelled it. "Of course, he is."

Keno faltered as he glanced between the looming front doors leading into the museum and back at his trainer's face. Worry lined his face so plainly, it almost hurt to look at him. "We don't have to go in now. We can come back later—"

"No."

The woman shook her head, tension lining every inch of her body as she glowered at the doors, as if daring that asshole Team Aqua member to come out and face her.

"We're going in and we're getting this done. We're doing it on our terms, and not on anyone else's."

From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of fangs peeking out from Ambrose's lips as he grinned.

 _And we're not following a fucking story anymore._

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

 _Christ on a crutch, this place really is swarming with team Aqua goons._

Even before Shay had made it inside to the reception desk to pay for her admittance fee, she could see the place was stuffed to the brim with striped uniforms. Men and women alike donned the clothing, gathered in groups both large and small. What few plainclothes civilians there were clearly felt uncomfortable with the sight of Team Aqua so boldly in public.

' _They've heard the rumours of what they've been doing. Some of these people…they've done some rather unsavoury work even before their tenure with the group. Now they're bringing it into the folds so others can do much the same. No wonder they're uneasy.'_ Ambrose relayed to Shay as they worked their way through the exhibits.

Water and silt samples from various regions, looping videos relaying deep submarine dives that were historic to all of humankind, model displays of ancient pokémon…

Shay's eyes were drawn, admittedly, but her attention waned just as quickly.

 _What kind of 'unsavoury work' have they done?_

Ambrose was quiet for a long while as they dodged a rather burly looking man flexing to his cluster, the stripes along his sleeves bulging. He cackled as Shay skittered out of his way, and the others laughed alongside him. Shay flipped them all the finger but before any of them could move, she was already slipping away like an eel through underwater caverns.

'… _it's best if I don't say.'_

 _Ambrose—_

' _Please…trust me, Shay. It's best we leave it at that.'_

It didn't reassure her, and only fueled the imagination. Have they bombed places? Shot at people and pokémon? Outright murdered someone? Worse than any of that or some combination of it all and then some?

It raised Shay's hackles and made her more wary as she worked her way through the cavernous room and around the displays and people huddled around them. It took her a long while to realize none of them had their pokémon out and perhaps that was a saving grace as to why they moved so much quicker through everyone.

Glancing at the pamphlet in hand, Shay spread out the map on the back, squinting at the words scrawled in neat text, and she took a quick scope of where she was. Something big and blue caught her eye and she was caught off guard by the giant, snake-like body of a giant Gyarados suspended by wires from the ceiling. It's viperfish-like face paired with a deep, scowling snarl made it a terrifyingly vicious display of animousity and rage as it coiled along above them.

"Stairs to the upper level are this way," she said, her voice raised just enough for her team to hear her. They followed after her, only to come to an abrupt halt as someone trod all over Shay's foot and in response, she shoved them away. They went sprawling, knocking two other people down with them. A hiss of indignation arose from the original offender, and he quickly clambered up to his feet with a whirl, only to clamp his jaw shut as soon as he turned around.

Shay, in quiet resonance with the man, fell just as silent out of shock.

"You!" She finally managed with a jabbing finger pointed at him, her teeth bared. She saw the fear slowly filtering through as his pupils constricted to pinpricks. The two people he knocked over were already on their feet, flanking him on either side, derisive little smiles painted across their faces.

"Is this the little bitch who beat you up not once, but twice?!" Said the one on the man's right, while the woman on his left guffawed, lips peeling back into a sneer, eyes tracing over Shay's form.

"She doesn't look like much. I think you just chickened out. Either way, you fucking failed the boss and he ain't all that happy with you, Jay-Jay."

The woman reached a hand up to grasp the man's face and cooed at him. He was quick to wriggle loose from their grips and backed away, but kept his eyes locked with Shay.

"I'm not fucking dealing with this shit today. Not today!"

He continued backing away until he had slipped away from sight into the crowd. The woman leaned on her companion, lazily watching. The man snorted as he tore his eyes from the retreating 'Jay-Jay' and looked back at Shay, boredom striking across his countenance.

"You got something to say, squirt?"

"Fuck you, man." Shay retorted, and the two guffawed at her backside as she turned from them as well, retreating toward the aforementioned stairwell.

"Ooh, so feisty! Better watch that mouth, firecracker, or we'll put you out of your misery!"

Their cackles faded as Shay found the stairwell hiding in the corner of the room besides an old sailing ship display model paired alongside a modern yacht display model.

The rest of the team skittered out amongst the forest of moving legs until they gathered beside Shay.

"Is everyone all right?"

A round of nods and agreement fluttered across the team's faces before they mounted, climbing upwards to the second level of the museum.

The crowds weren't as condensed on the second level, but it did take some time navigating.

"The receptionist said he'd be in a back office on the second level…" Shay said quietly under her breath. Keno pressed a broad hand to the side of her arm, sidling up closer to her.

"Do you think we'll have any access to it?"

"He wasn't answering the phone earlier, and she didn't seem inclined to give us a code to get in the back, courier or not."

"I can handle the door," Ambrose said, his voice carrying despite the volume around them. Shay hesitated.

"I don't think breaking and entering was on the list of things to do today…"

"What choice do we have? If Team Aqua is here, it already doesn't bode well. Most of these people don't know much, but some are drawing conclusions well enough on their own. They're here for him. And with them swarming the only way out of this place…"

"He has to come out eventually," Shay concluded, dread filling in the cracks within her.

"I don't think he'll much care if we come to give him some amount of security for a while, or at least until the crowds leave. A good thing the receptionist didn't lie to us like she did the rest of these goons."

"Even if she did, I'm sure you would have picked it out from her mind," Luna yawned, arching her back before slinking out to stretch it. Ambrose offered yet another toothy grin.

"True. I don't much care for lies, and it's better to be absolutely sure than guessing blindly."

"Shall we continue this back-and-forth at a later date? Our trainer has a job to complete, or else a very powerful human will be after her," Faye interjected bluntly with a sharp clack of her beak. That drew the conversation to a ubiquitous end all around at once as they advance through the second level. There were less people milling about, but there were also more rooms dividing them from where they needed to go.

It took some nitpicking throughout the museum, and a part of Shay wished she could just slow down to enjoy the exhibits. _But this isn't a pleasure trip, this is a business trip. Work, work, work._

Ambrose tugged on her pants leg in a gentle fashion, but it drew Shay to a sharp stop and she glanced down at him.

"You've passed by the room."

"How do you know?" Shay asked whilst craning her head to look around, brows beetling together in puzzlement.

"There are too many people here and too few in the other parts of this building that aren't…public."

He gave a tilt of his head toward the left, and Shay followed his gesture. A giant glowing aquarium that took up half of the room filled with Horsea and Corsola floating about inside was what greeted her. The woman glanced back down at the Kirlia beside her.

"Behind that aquarium. There should be a door somewhere around here that could lead us to Captain Stern."

Shay hesitated, but upon glancing at the others, she saw they didn't have any better ideas beyond what Ambrose had just offered up. Upon wordless agreement, they began sifting through the crowds once more, finding it easier to slip between bodies than it had been downstairs.

Rounding the aquarium, a few of the pokémon within followed after Shay and her team. Keno waved at a few of them, and they spouted bubbles at him gleefully, while the rocky-looking Corsola wiggled their little appendages. Shay prowled about until she spotted a door further down the wall a little ways away from the aquarium. She gave a nod to the team and they huddled around the doorway, with Shay bringing out the pamphlet and unfolding it to cover her face. Keno pressed in close to her, while Breela wiggled in Shay's arms.

"Ambrose, we're at the door."

"I've got him. Here it is," Sela replied softly, guiding the Kirlia toward the key card reader. Sela turned away while Luna flanked her. Faye's ironclad grip on Shays' shoulder squeezed a bit harder, causing Shay to squeak in protest. The grip loosened.

"Sorry," Faye said, rubbing her beak against the woman's ear.

A soft click drew Shay's attention and she glanced over to see Ambrose grinning, hand on the now-open door. Sela and Luna were already slipping inside.

"Ladies first," he offered. Keno exchanged a look with his trainer, before pushing her along. Ambrose followed after them, quietly closing the door behind them.

The sight behind the door was a hallway. Short, but well lit. About ten feet ahead, a doorway led to an annexed room to their left. Shay tiptoed forward, Sela taking point, Luna right behind her. Sela sniffed around the corner, peeking her head to peer into the room. A soft glow washed over her black and grey fur, and she squinted her maraschino-bright eyes within.

"It looks like…pipes. Must be the room behind that aquarium."

"Those are filters and stuff for the aquarium," Shay replied as she peeped around the corner to peer into the room.

"My stepdad has an aquarium back at home, for all his tropical fish and shrimp. It's all underneath it, but I think the pumps and filters keep the water flowing so that there's a constant current in the tank. And those lights above the tank are meant to bring out the colour in all the reefs and polyps, and I'm also guessing, the Corsola's colours as well."

Silence fell as Shay quieted fell and found six pairs of eyes locked on her, sans Ambrose actually staring.

"What? I grew up with a pretty big tank at home." She sniffed pointedly. "I picked up on a few things over the last few years, here and there. Doesn't make me an expert, geez."

"Hey! What are you doing back here?"

Shay jumped, nearly dropping Breela. She squealed as Shay fumbled and caught her, quickly cradling the Shroomish close to her chest as she twisted to face the speaker.

A spritely young man in a work uniform emblazoned with the museum's logo stood at the end of the hallway ahead of them where a T-junction sat. He was the first to move and came at a clipped pace, a hand reaching out to grab her.

"Whoa, I'm here on official courier business—"

"Then go to the back bay like everyone else—you're not allowed to be here!"

"I have a package for Captain Stern," Shay pressed as his hand snatched at her arm, squeezing tight and trying to drag her along. Faye screeched and swiveled to peck at the foreign hand on her trainer. The man yelped, and withdrew, shaking his hand limply, glowering at both Shay and at the Taillow. Shay's heart was beating so fast and hard, it hurt.

"Look, I don't care if you have a package for Captain Stern or not, you can't be back here! You're leaving, and if you don't, I'll call security to drag you out of here!"

"I'm not leaving until I deliver this to Captain Stern, and I was charged by President Stone of Devon Corporation to do so. If you want to call him up—" Shay tried, her mind racing as she struggled to think of a way to make it past this jerk. The man did not seem all that impressed, and tried snatching at her again, only to be stonewalled by Keno. He hesitated in the wake of the hulking Marshtomp, eyes bouncing back and forth between Keno and Shay. His hand swept upward to push at his hair as he glared at them all.

"I don't care if the Champion _himself_ told you to come down here. Arceus, I swear you people think you can do whatever you want just because you have a title and some money—"

"Harold? Harold, what's going on? What's all that racket?"

Another jolt of panic raced through Shay as someone else appeared at the end of the T-junction. It was an older gentleman that rounded the corner, donning a rumpled collared shirt, a pair of worn jeans, and work boots. The man himself looked exhausted, if curious, as he stared between his co-worker and the young woman with her team. Shay swallowed, finding it difficult at first to find her voice. Slowly, she straightened herself up, studying the man as she did.

He dressed casually enough, but he was well groomed in both his burgundy-dark beard and hair, which were showing signs of salt-and-pepper staining mixed in. Shay swallowed a few times, struggling to find her voice.

"I…I'm looking for Captain Stern."

The man frowned, shooting another glance at the man he called Harold.

"And what business do you have with him?" He remarked carefully, his words guarded.

Shay found herself hesitating, hand halfway up to reaching for the strap on her sling-pack. Slowly, her fingers clasped around it after another moment's deliberation.

"I have a high-profile package for him. President Stone of the Devon Corporation hired me to deliver it to Captain Stern," Shay answered, pausing briefly before adding pointedly, " _discretely_."

Harold scoffed and locked eyes with the other man and waved a dismissive hand Shay's way. "Boss, there's no way you believe her, right? Those psychos out there probably dressed up one of their own to put up this frigging delivery ruse—"

"No, it's not Harold. I've spoken to President Stone a few weeks ago. He informed me ahead of time that he'd hired a secret courier and she'd be heading my way soon." The man smiled warmly at her. Harold hesitated before stepping aside, allowing Shay to pass.

"I'm Captain Stern. I'm sorry for the gruff welcome committee. We've just been on edge as of late." The man introduced himself as he offered his hand to Shay. She shook it on approach.

"I'm guessing it's because of those Team Aqua goons outside in the museum," Shay surmised and Captain Stern gave a rueful chuckle and nodded. He released his grip and motioned for her to follow him.

"Yes, exactly. They've been showing up lately, not in this many numbers, mind…today is a bit…hmmm."

"Over the top and wild?"

"Something to that effect, yes."

Shay huffed out a sigh as he led her through the hallways until they passed through a doorway leading to modest-sized room. Most of it was clear and free, but several work benches, tables, and filing cabinets lined the back wall. Several computer monitors were spread around a computer desk in the corner, while veritable towers of paperwork piled around them all. On one of the workbenches, an old radio was playing music, the volume set at quiet and soft. "They've been causing problems just about everywhere I've gone, so I can understand you being on edge."

"Then you also realize the weight of your job and why President Stone resorted to hiring you as a courier."

"I do," Shay agreed, and she could feel that weight's burden slowly pressing against her shoulders once more. "He was quite insistent on the need for discretion."

Faye shuffled on the woman's shoulders as she carefully set Breela down and twisted her sling-pack around, pulling the zipper down the track to open it up.

Captain Stern sucked in a breath between his teeth as Shay carefully removed the wrapped package and she slowly passed it over to the outstretched, awaiting hands. Harold came slinking into the room, watching on as the parcel transferred in his boss's hands with rapt attention. Shay retrieved all the paperwork as well, and with a tap on Harold's shoulder, he quickly took it as well with a mumble of thanks. Captain Stern was already hurrying to a worktable, hands cradling the parcel as gingerly as he would fragile glass. Harold joined him, laying down the file of paperwork, and they both began consulting over everything all at once in hushed tones.

Shay, in the meantime, zipped her sling-pack up, swiveling it back around. She turned around, looking for Breela, and was mildly surprised to see Keno having picked her up. He shook his head at her, giving a faint wave of the hand.

"I've got her, don't worry."

Breela offered a craggy smile up at her trainer as Shay patted the side of her head.

"Thanks, Keno."

Turning back to the two men, Shay found that their attentions hadn't waned in the least. She cleared her throat, dithering on the spot.

"Um…Captain Stern? Is everything all right?"

"Oh? Oh! Right, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to just brush you aside, Miss…?"

A sudden tugging on her hand drew her attention and she glanced down to see Ambrose at her side.

"Shay…"

The Kirlia seemed distracted, as though he was splitting his attentions between her and something else.

"Hold on, Ambrose." She remarked softly, before turning back to Captain Stern with a tight smile. "You can just…call me Miss Courier."

 _Might as well stick to the nickname._

' _Shay, we should get going.'_

 _Give me a minute to wrap things up._

"Ah. Right. Well, Miss Courier, I am extremely grateful for your prudence regarding this delivery. I truly was afraid that Team Aqua, in all their unusual activities lately, would have targeted us."

' _SHAY, TROUBLE'S HERE.'_

The woman recoiled at the sudden volume rattling about in her head and she was about to whirl on the Kirlia, before she stopped at the shift of movement from the corner of her eye.

"Oh, Captain Stern! That truly hurts, the way you speak about my beloved little group. You make it sound as though we're nothing more than two-bit thugs, looking to deal out some back-alley turf war on you and your own."

The other two behind her turned at the sound of the voice as well, and Shay heard Harold curse under his breath.

Two Team Aqua grunts came slinking into the room, bearing smug grins upon their faces. It was the same two who had been with the grunt who'd ran away from her earlier. They weren't important or what caught Shay's attention.

No, that was largely reserved for the figure behind them.

A broad figure stepped around the corner and filled the doorway behind the two Team Aqua grunts.

Shay's stomach twisted into knots as recognition washed over her at the sight of the man coming into the room, as the two grunts flanked his sides . _Aw, crap._

It was Archie, the leader of Team Aqua.

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

 **Extra Notes: As I mentioned at the start of the chapter, I wish all my followers a happy holiday season, no matter what holiday you may celebrate. I truly hope that you have a wonderful season with family and friends, and that you have a wonderful new year's!**


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two: Backroom Brawl

**Chapter Twenty-Two:  
** **Backroom Brawl**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: Happy New Year! We are in a new decade, and I have a warm, fuzzy, hopeful feeling for the year 2020 as being a really good year!**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Kirlia, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

 **Badges Won** **: Stone Badge, Knuckle Badge**

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

 _Oh yeah! It was like lightning  
Everybody was fighting  
And the music was soothing  
And they all started grooving_

 _Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah_

 _And the man in the back said everyone attack  
And it turned into a ballroom blitz  
And the girl in the corner said boy I want to warn you  
It'll turn into a ballroom blitz  
Ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz  
_—" _ **Ballroom Blitz**_ **" by The Sweet**

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

Archie. Archie was here.

 _Archie. Was. Fucking. HERE._

That alone spiked her heartrate, never mind the way it hitched Shay's breathing up a few levels short of hyperventilating.

 _And here I was hoping to avoid a stupid story's plot_ , she absently thought as she clenched her fists at her side, taking in the sight of the man.

It was difficult to mistaken him for someone else. Broad-shouldered with a stocky build, he sported a meticulously trimmed and crafted beard, while he hid his head of hair with a royal blue bandanna that bore the Team Aqua logo. His face, however, was another story. Shay found her eyes drawn to the scars marring his face, crisscrossing over the bridge of his nose like the bottom half of an X, and she wondered if it formed a full one beneath his bandanna. Regardless, the scar itself was paler than the rest of his rich teak-coloured skin. And then there was his outfit.

It was nothing like the gaudy jumpsuit and semi-skirt that reminded Shay all-too-much of Riku from the first _Kingdom Hearts_ , when he and Ansem had joined together at the climax of the game. No, Archie wasn't wearing that outfit at all. His coat draped down to his knees, covering the tasteful dark blue collared shirt, whilst his charcoal grey pants were tailored to fit him. Scuffed work boots adorned his feet, a swirl of pale sky blue wrapping along the outer edges in a style reminiscent of waves curling in on themselves. The only vague remnants he bore from his game design was a rather surprisingly tasteful and sizeable anchor charm made of beaten gold that hung from a gold chain around his neck.

The cannon fire in her chest seemed to lessen as she slowly stamped out distracted thoughts rampaging through her head, but just barely. A flush of warmth gathered in her chest, slowly but surely, spreading a calming effect through her body until all bouts of disquiet and fretfulness dimmed down completely. Shay snuck a glance at Ambrose, recognizing the faint shimmer of light outlining his form before all too quickly, it faded.

Shay affixed her gaze back on the three people opposite her.

Archie's lips tugged into a faint smile as he coolly observed the half of the room opposing him: Harold, Captain Stern, and herself. His gaze, however, seemed absorbed with Captain Stern just beyond her. Shay…Shay was an afternote worth ignoring. She didn't exist, as far as he was concerned.

Or, more importantly, the parts that Captain Stern had only just received were more significant than anything else. Frankly, it was insulting she was being overlooked.

 _He's been waiting,_ Shay realized. He's been waiting, and it didn't matter if President Stone had sent the package through his usual shipping methods or a private courier. Archie was determined to meet his end goal.

Itch-shiver-scratch went the back of her thoughts, and the vague reassurance of Ambrose's mental presence coated her mind as he carefully interjected himself.

' _He's been watching Captain Stern quite carefully for the last several weeks. Even with President Stone's care and caution…it hasn't matter much in the end.'_

 _I was just thinking the same thing,_ Shay replied absently, her fists clenching tightly at her sides as Archie took a few steps forward, closing distance between himself and Captain Stern—but in the interim, halving the distance between himself and Shay even more.

Even without a nudge from any of her team, Shay found herself moving, whether out of instinct or other powers beyond her own, it was all the same in the end. Archie stopped rather suddenly, as though realizing that there was another obstacle in his way beyond that of mere distance and cast his gaze upon Shay. Surprise slowly began colouring his expression as he took her in.

"What's this? Have you hired some young pup to stand in my way, Captain Stern?"

Archie laughed, and it was a laugh that originated deep from within his belly, boiling up before releasing up into his throat and out his mouth. It was hearty and amused, genuine even. The moment he tried moving past Shay, however, Keno moved to intervene in lieu of his trainer, shoving the Team Aqua leader back.

The two grunts behind him twitched and moved forward in response, their amused expressions melting into abject annoyance. They froze in an instant as soon as Archie raised a hand; the only sign of his mercy. For the moment, anyway.

He gazed down at Shay, dark eyes examining her face, as though he was searching a weakness he could exploit.

Eventually, his attentions drifted back to Captain Stern, his expression wholly unreadable.

"You really think you can stop us? Stop what we're aiming for?"

"Nobody even knows what you truly want, so how would I know?" Captain Stern sounded off behind Shay. Gruff annoyance and exasperation; that's what she heard. And yet there was something else…fear. Captain Stern was _terrified_ of this man.

It was enough for Shay to step in his way once again. Never mind _'plot reasons'_. Never mind _'because that's the way it's supposed to go'_. It was the right fucking thing to do, plain and simple. There was a dangerous air crackling around the man, one that made the hairs on the back of Shay's neck stand on end.

Archie huffed, conceding ground by stopping his advance altogether, and instead stepped back quite a bit, giving them all some breathing room. The goons behind him twitched into action, looking ready to leap at a moment's notice, but just as suddenly, they stopped as Archie raised a hand, as though sensing their agitation.

He stared down at Shay, as though he was seeing her for the first time.

His gaze didn't shift at all. She was nothing more than a gnat in his path, a minor step to be overcome. She was _nothing_ compared to his overall objective. His eyes were hard, deep blue slates of stone that refused to give way to pressure as he stared her down, expecting her to back down on her own.

Shay would have crumbled, if weren't for the gentle touch of Keno, of Ambrose and Sela, Faye and Breela and Luna, giving her support. The clutch of paws on her shoulder or arm; the faint brush of fur and warmth against her pants leg…

Their support solidified her conviction. Shay tilted her chin upwards, the muscles in her jaw clenching tight as she stared back at Archie, offering a silent challenge he most likely hadn't been expecting.

The man considered her a moment longer, taking her in, before a smile split his face.

"If that's the way this is going to go, then by all means. Have at it." He shot a look over his shoulder, and the two Team Aqua grunts sidled forward, grinning like a pair of jackals. Already, hands plucked up pokéballs from their belts. The woman surged forward a half-step more than her colleague, staring down Shay with a sneer painted across her face.

"You're going to regret this, little girl."

"Miss, I can't ask you to do this—" Captain Stern's voice rose up behind Shay, but he stopped short as Shay lifted a fist into the air, calling for silence. She hated that she flinched at the sound of it. She didn't dare take her eyes off the three individuals across from her.

"Harold, Captain Stern…do either of you have any pokémon on you at all?"

"I…I don't. My team's…not here. And neither is Captain Stern's." There was a tremble in his voice as he hesitantly added, "I'm sorry."

 _Great. Fan-fucking-tastic._

"Captain Stern, keep a good hold on your package. And both of y'all…stay behind me."

Shay glowered at Team Aqua, not daring to tear her eyes away from them, not even for a second. The woman's face coiled into a mockery of sympathy before it broke with a cackle.

"Poor little baby! Guess you'll have to face us by your lonesome. How sad."

"Keno, would you please put Breela down so we can teach this shriveled up bitch a lesson?" Shay barked. The amusement in the woman's face dried up in the blink of an eye. Her companion's humour was far from drained, however, as he cracked up behind her. The woman whirled to glare daggers at him, and the age-old adage of "if looks could kill" immediately came to Shay's mind. Keno stepped forward in the meantime as the woman turned back to her, a snarl painted on her face as she tossed her one and only pokéball.

"C'mon out, Pygos. Let's teach this little shit a thing or two about respect from her betters!"

Out of the light energy's twists sprang forth a Carvanha, in all its toothy, twin dorsal-finned, bright-coloured glory.

It took Shay a long moment to recognize why it just looked so…wrong.

 _Carvanha's a fish pokémon. But it's…_

Floating. It was honest-to-goodness _floating_ , just a few inches above the linoleum-tiled flooring, scowling at her with cherry-red eyes that seemed to burn into her. The Carvanha was staring her down, as if it really wanted nothing more than to sink its needle-sharp fangs into her, like a predator that was hyper-focused on a select piece of meat it sorely wanted.

Breela waddled forward, and beside her Keno sucked in a sharp little breath and from the corner of her eye, Shay could see him shifting his gaze between the Shroomish and Shay.

"You sure about this?" Keno remarked very softly to her. Shay inhaled deeply, squaring her shoulders back.

"Type advantage helps, buddy."

A part of her was curious as to how and why Carvanha—a dark and water duel-type—was able to somehow float mid-air the way it was. She also doubted she'd gain any answers anytime soon.

"Pygos, get in there with an Aqua Jet and then a Bite attack! Tear that stupid mushroom to pieces!"

"Breela, use Headbutt and launch Leech Seed!"

The Carvanha, by whatever powers that allowed it to float, seemed to have its limits. Pygos used its Aqua Jet attack in order to navigate when out of its natural element, and it used what it had effectively. Water jettisoned out of its maw in quick bursts as it swiveled its entire body, like a jet propelling something forward. Pygos twisted back around, jaws still dripping wet as it hurtled rapidly towards Breela.

The Shroomish, despite her stubby and stunted legs, packed a wallop within them. She moved a mite bit quicker than Pygos—at least, it seemed that way to Shay—and aimed her mushroom-capped head forward. The two collided, with Breela's momentum and the Carvanha's canceling one another out. Pygos, however, remained floating upright, keeping them both aloft. For a heart-wrenching moment, Shay felt a scream burning up in her throat as things settled.

The Carvanha's mouth was wrapped entirely around Breela's cap, needle-sharp fangs slowly sinking into Breela. The Shroomish squealed, legs kicked spasmodically—and then just as suddenly, the Carvanha released, twitching uncontrollably. Roots quickly shot out of its jaws, sprouting tendrils wrapping viciously around teeth, propping the Carvanha's mouth open. Whatever powers that kept Pygos aloft wavered, its belly scraping the floor until the fish flopped completely onto the ground, twitching uncontrollably. All throughout, the little sprouts grew on, some of them even creeping out through the Carvanha's gills.

Breela slowly tottered upright, trembling all over. The wounds around her mushroom cap, ugly marks that trickled green ichor, began to close over themselves until they were completely gone.

The female Team Aqua grunt muffled her scream—a mixture of agony, disbelief, and rage—behind her hands before common sense seemed to kick in and she recalled her pokémon back.

Breela stood stock still for a moment, frozen to her spot, before she turned her entire body to look back at Shay.

"Was that good?"

Relief and pride collided with one another inside Shay's chest, like a breath of fresh air, as she nodded to the Shroomish.

"You did good, girl. You okay for another round?"

Breela gave a shiver as an answer before shaking herself. "No, I think I'm done. Is that okay?"

"That's okay, Breela. C'mon back, then. Faye, you want to take over?"

"Gladly," the Taillow replied, taking off from Shay's shoulder. She swooped down and gently plucked at the top of Breela's head as she tottered her way back to her trainer. Keno scooped her up before Shay could and he nodded forward.

"Focus on Faye. I've got her," he simply remarked with an encouraging smile, his tiger-orange eyes bright.

' _Look at that. You've got more than twenty seconds of insane courage in you, after all,'_ Ambrose's voice whispered, glib amusement dripping from each word. A tail twined around her calf, and the vibration from Luna's low growling traveled up her leg, while her yellow eyes glared intensely. The woman across them retreated, scowling in the wake of her defeat.

The other grunt snorted, muttering something to the woman, to which she rebuked with a wordless snarl and a clenched fist waved in his direction. Archie rumbled a word or two to them both, his words indiscernible. The male grunt stalked forward, plucking a pokéball from his belt with practiced, almost lazy ease, a sly smile perking his lips up.

Without any further preface, he tossed his pokéball, and a Zubat sprung from its innards, haphazardly fluttering in the air, jaws shivering as it chattered softly.

Faye, who had been preening her lengthy flight feathers, took pause to survey her opponent with a tilt of the head.

"Supersonic! Scramble that little bird's brain real good, Vesper!"

"Got it, boss!" The Zubat crowed back, teeth bared seconds before jaws pried open to unleash a hellish, high-pitched scream aimed right at Faye. Shay flinched and clenched her teeth as a ringing began to pulse inside her ears.

"Move outta the way Faye!"

The Taillow didn't bother sticking around, taking instantly to Shay's shout. In the blink of an eye, she took to the air, whipping around overhead. The grunt across from Shay scowled, nose wrinkling in distaste as he tried following Faye's movements while she darted about above.

"Dammit, get up there and uaw Wing Attack; knock that feather duster out of the air already!"

"Use Aerial Ace, quick Faye!"

Faye was quicker on the draw, swifter than a Wild West gunslinger. She tucked her wings in to dodge the incoming Zubat, diving down to get underneath her opponent. She snapped her wings open as silvery wisps of power engulfed her, rising rapidly to smash into Vesper. The Zubat screeched when struck and went spiraling toward the ground before crumpling as he crash-landed without so much as a grunt. Vesper struggled to pull himself upright, trembling visibly with the effort before collapsing completely with a soft, pathetic whimper of pain.

The silence dragged on for only a few seconds before the unconscious Zubat was pulled back into his pokéball, and a Carvanha was sent out in his place.

This one was just as snub-snouted and needle-fanged as the last one had been, bearing the same cherry-red glare. This one also levitated under mysterious powers that Shay still couldn't figure out.

' _Dark-types are a mysterious bunch in general. If we psychic-types can't figure them out, I doubt you humans will, either. Not for a long while, anyways.'_

 _Thank you for that not-so-helpful exposition, Ambrose_ , Shay replied back, tensing as the Carvanha moved in with its jaws hinging open as its red gaze swiveled upward to focus on Faye above.

"Aqua Jet! I swear, you'd better knock out that fucking bird, Serras, I'm not kidding around!"

The trainer across from Shay shot a nervous look over his shoulder at Archie.

Shay almost forgot he was even there.

Almost.

He was quiet throughout the entirety of the battles, dark eyes watching as events unfolded before him, a silent bystander radiating pure intensity. She turned her attention back to the battle, focusing on the Carvanha as it tried aiming and hitting Faye with its Aqua Jet attack, only to fail consecutively.

 _Our luck won't hold for much longer at this rate,_ Shay thought, even as she watched, captivated at Faye's movements. The Taillow was dipping and diving with such grace, it made Shay's heart flutter at the sight. She was a gorgeous little bird, and Shay wasn't a fool to not be able to admire and admit as such.

"Dammit, Serras, hit that bird! Hit it out of the fucking air!" The Team Aqua goon screeched, his voice pitching up several octaves, his face pinched with rage. Shay almost burst out laughing at how rattled he appeared, like he was ready to burst apart from the seams. Whatever aloof airs he had been putting on earlier, it had all quickly evaporated the moment he began to lose.

 _We need to finish this,_ Shay thought. She followed Faye's movements with her eyes, frowning. _We need to finish it with a bang and with something that'll show we're not fucking around or pushovers._

As much as it pained her to be resorted to this, she knew it was good for a finale.

"Faye, use Brave Bird!"

There was a small gasp from behind her, but Shay wasn't completely sure whether it came from Harold or Captain Stern. She didn't have the time to figure it out as she watched Faye skim along the high ceiling before tucking her wings for one last dive. A familiar pale blue aura engulfed her, wild and hot as the air screamed with undulated energy emanating from the Taillow. Faye let out a primal shriek as she slammed into the Carvanha. The air itself felt superheated as the energy blasted outward upon impact. The ground shook beneath them all, as plaster and dust rose in a cloud, obscuring their vision.

Shay could just barely make out the silhouettes of the three across from her, but nothing of the pokémon in the center of it all. It took several seconds longer for it all to clear.

Something moved in the heart of the dust cloud, shaking themselves. Keno made a soft noise of discontent, while Luna and Sela quietly muttered amongst themselves, wondering who should go to check on Faye's condition.

Beside her, Ambrose chuckled softly.

"She's fine. You'll see."

True to his word, Faye shuffled forward, unsteadily at first, but she winged it into the air as she stabilized herself and fluttered back to Shay's shoulder. She leaned heavily against Shay's neck and cheek, breathing hard but clearly.

"He's down for the count. I checked," Faye said quietly, as the dust cleared entirely, revealing the cracked flooring, with the Carvanha in the epicenter. Fractures splintered into branches like lightning frozen in time. Serras twitched several times, but otherwise, didn't make a move to right itself or get up.

A breathless moment passed before Serras too was recalled. Nobody moved for a long while. The grunt finally did so and moved to sidle up to his female cohort behind Archie, looking just as worn and beaten as her. All the while, Archie said nothing. The silence from him was almost unsettling, yet Shay felt emboldened by her victories as she glowered at him, a quiet and defiant challenge in her gaze.

"You next? I ain't got all day, so hurry the fuck up and stop wasting my time."

Keno brushed against her side as he stepped forward with Breela in his arms. Sela, Luna, and Ambrose altogether joined the tight throng, the press of their bodies against hers bolstering her courage. Her resolve solidified further with them standing with her.

Archie huffed a sigh and shook his head several times as his hands flew to his hips…and then he burst out laughing. It was an explosive sound, one that startled Shay. Her shoulders tensed up and Faye squeaked her annoyance, nibbling gently on Shay's earlobe in protest.

"You're quite the fierce little scamp, aren't you, girl?" he said when he'd finally calmed, dark oceanic eyes surveying her more closely. "But I also suspect you're too naïve to understand the gravitas of our mission, our goal to save this world, and most especially the seas, from the likes of humanity. We all came from the sea and instead of treasuring our ancient forebearers, we humans trash it, dumping our garbage and litter and Arceus knows whatever else into the waters. And who suffers from all this? Can you tell me?"

It was like working through peanut butter and molasses to pry her mouth open. Shay wanted nothing more than to glare in silence like a stubborn child, not entirely trusting the words that might fly out of her, and yet…

 _Who gives a flying fuck about what you think?_ The oceans were precious, don't get her wrong. But these mad stunts and mindless actions weren't helping anyone at all.

If anything, it was hindering things to the extreme. There were better ways to helping the ocean, and everything that lived in it.

"I really don't have time for your eco-terrorist psychobabble bullshit, buddy. I do have an inkling of an idea just how important the oceans are to every living creature on this planet. Yeah, people can be trashy and that sucks when you're a little more self-aware than the person next to you might be, but conducting theft of private property or someone's pokémon? Throttling said stolen pokémon and threatening to kill them? That's fucked up, even you have to admit that."

Archie's brows, while hidden beneath the folds of his bandanna, most likely raised judging by how his eyes widened several fractions. He glanced at his subordinates, and they cringed under his piercing gaze, not daring to meet Archie's eyes.

"And how do I know whether you're telling me the truth of these…abusive allegations?"

"Try talking to their little buddy Jay-Jay. He snatched up a pokémon off the streets in broad daylight and tried wringing her neck when she wasn't cooperating with his thieving ass a couple of weeks back in Rustboro."

The two grunts kept their eyes averted still, fidgeting under the intense stare aimed their way.

"I'll be sure to look into that. We're trying to save pokémon, especially those that call the sea their home." Archie remarked, mildly surprising Shay with his sudden declaration. He turned back to face her, lips curling upwards. "I shall have to reprimand my subordinate, if these allegations turn out to be true. In the meantime…I suppose we'll bow out for the time being. You've put up a rather spectacular fight and it wouldn't seem fair to tarnish your victory, as it were, and I will look into these claims you have dropped at my feet."

Without further preamble, he twirled a finger in the air, signaling to his subordinates that it was time to take their leave.

Shay's muscles didn't ease from their rigid tension as she watched Archie and the two Team Aqua grunts retreat. As they disappeared from the room, all that was left was the sound of their footsteps, and soon after that, there was a ringing silence left in their wake. The only thing she could hear was the gentle croon of music playing from the radio, but even that seemed muted. Shay strained to listen, but it was Faye who quietly declared that they were gone.

Only then did Shay allow herself to breath and with a rush, air spilled into her lungs like it was first fresh breath she's taken in a long time. It left her vision reeling for a few short seconds before it cleared up and she slowly turned back to face Harold and Captain Stern. They looked about as relieved as she felt.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Other than worrying about the damage done to our work room…we're fine," Captain Stern answered, his voice steady and even as he greeted her expectant gaze. Harold was already darting around the room, muttering to himself as he surveyed said damage, agitation clear in his movements.

"Unbelievable! You just had to battle it out in here, didn't you? You couldn't drag those people out of here, help protect our work?!"

The young man whirled on his heel, pointing an accusatory finger at Shay as he stalked forward.

"Harold, don't you start with her. We were lucky she was even here to help waylay those criminals!" Captain Stern barked back at Harold, and to his credit, the young man winced, although he still held a fair amount of defiance written plainly across his face.

"You can't be serious, Captain Stern. They wouldn't have come here if it weren't for her. She practically dragged them in herself."

Shay bristled and there were murmurs of dissent spreading from her team as well. Sela, in particular, had her hackles raised as a snarl drew back her lips to reveal her teeth at Harold in response.

"Keep talking, just see what happens," she growled softly.

"That is enough!"

Captain Stern's voice echoed off the walls, loud and ringing. Harold clamped his mouth shut and appeared more abashed than he had moments earlier. Sela settled as well, her maraschino-bright eyes wide with surprise.

"She was contracted by President Stone to deliver these goods to us. If you really want to start assigning blame, why not him? Why not me? I ordered the parts, he provided them. If anyone is truly to blame, it should be me."

"She…she broke in—"

"Now that's unfortunate. I don't condone what she did," Captain Stern said, shooting Shay a rather firm look, before alighting his attentions back on Harold. "But she was trying to do her job. I can't fault her for that, even if I'm none too happy in how she went about doing it."

"Sorry," Shay muttered to the older man, a feeling of self-consciousness washing over her. "I did try the front desk, but the women manning reception up there were being cagey. I didn't see any other way of getting this stuff to you."

"I'm sure I can overlook your methods in lieu of your stellar performance and willingness to step in when the need arose. Harold might not show it very well, but he is just as grateful for your assistance in keeping our parts safe and sound as I am." Captain Stern smiled at her, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he did. "I'll be sure to contact President Stone later today to let him know we received our parcel from you, Miss Courier. In the meantime, I'll walk you out. Harold, please secure the parcel's contents, and be sure to contact the police to let them know what has just transpired. I'm sure they'll be very interested to know that Team Aqua's higher up just graced us with his presence. With any luck, they'll be able to catch him before he can flee Slateport."

"Sure…okay, Captain Stern."

Harold said nothing more as he moved back toward the worktable, while Captain Stern led Shay out into the winding hallway, with her team trailing on either side of them.

"You'll have to excuse Harold, he's a good kid. He takes things very seriously, especially when deadlines are approaching rather rapidly, and our upcoming expedition is no exception. He's worried, and it tends to bleed out in how he treats people."

"I'd say it's fine, except he was practically trying to paint me as some kind of villain in cahoots with Team Aqua."

"It is unfortunate that he decided to show up. I was hoping they'd give up the ghost after a few days, but I suppose that was too much to ask for."

"Why didn't you call the police when they started showing up?"

"We have, when they began for the last week or so. But since they weren't causing any disturbances beyond being overbearing, there was little they could do beyond crowd control if things got out of hand."

Shay mulled on his words, and remembered what Ambrose had told her earlier on, about how some of Team Aqua's ranks had conducted unsavoury acts in their pasts. It made her wonder all over again if they had hurt people, or worse still, while under the banner of Team Aqua.

"Aren't Team Aqua on the League's radars, though? Or at the very least, shouldn't they be?"

Captain Stern shook his head at her prodding, tightness forming around the edges of his eyes. "I can't speak for the League. I'm not sure who is and who isn't on their radar at this point in time, honestly, and I don't have the time to keep track of all that. I have my work, and it occupies my attentions enough as it is."

He sighed as he dragged a hand over his face, shaking his head. "But I'll be sure to give them a ring later on today as well. Perhaps they can assist the police, if things escalate as far as priorities go for them. I hope it does, based on what had happened today. In the meantime, I'm sure they'd appreciate a statement from you on the matter—"

Whatever else Captain Stern went on about, Shay barely heard him at all. The moment he turned the matter to reporting the police and mentioning her giving a statement, her stomach curdled sourly and the taste of bile coated the back of her throat, nervousness making her heart flutter unevenly.

 _More cops. Great. Almost every fucking town I end up in, I have to talk to the authorities, and deal with them trying to wrongfully arrest me. Do I have something tattooed on my forehead that all but says "SEND ME TO JAIL" in big, bold print or something?_

Her thoughts muddled further as she dwelled on the prospect, but she caught snippets of comments from Captain Stern as they made their way out of the hallways to the museum proper, down the second floor staircase to the first floor and toward front reception area. All the while, it was relatively quiet and clear as they progressed through, the earlier crowds that had filled the Oceanic Museum of Team Aqua members no longer there. It was as though they had never been here at all.

As they approached the front doors that led outside, Captain Stern took pause with a heavy sigh.

"Well, this is where I must leave you, Miss Courier. I have quite a workload to get back to, and a number of calls to make, and chances are I won't be making it home tonight."

"May I make a suggestion, Captain Stern?"

"Hmm? What is it?"

Shay looked him square in the eye, hoping he didn't just see a young face staring at him and dismiss her. She hoped he would take her words to heart, and seriously so.

"I'd beef up security around here and increase the safety protocols it takes to get to your back rooms here at the museum, and anywhere else you frequent for good measure." She took pause, gathering her next words with care. "I am really sorry I had to break in like I did earlier, and I'm grateful you didn't just kick me to the curb on the matter. But if I was able to get in that easily, it was no wonder Archie was able to do the same thing. Increasing the procedures it takes to get back to your offices and beefing up your security personnel might be a pain, but it'd definitely be more secure in keeping your work out of Team Aqua's hands. Or at the very least, it'd make it much more difficult, and take them longer to get around, which might give you that much more time to call the authorities and get them here."

Captain Stern said nothing at first, and simply studied her face with curious intent, as though he was trying to scrape up something more from her without using words.

Slowly, he offered his hand to her and Shay glanced at it before taking it in her own. He squeezed tightly, and she did the same.

"Thank you. I'll take your advisement under serious consideration. After today, I'd be a fool to not do so."

Shay nodded, pacified at the truthful sincerity of his words.

"Ah. Right. If the police wish to contact you, where should I…?"

Those words allowed any last goodwill she had left in her to wither. A part of Shay wanted nothing more than to tear her hand away and scream "fuck the police" at Captain Stern. She swallowed down the urge, tamping down on it for good measure as her shoulders sagged. Sensing the sudden change, the older man gently extricated his hand away from hers.

"I'm staying at the Slateport Pokémon Center for the time being. I would _highly_ appreciate it if you emphasized that I wasn't involved with their schemes _at all_ , and that I was _helping_ you."

"Um…all right?" Captain Stern blinked at her, confusion so evidently coated upon his face. Shay hesitated, and the urge to oversimplify and explain overcame her before she could filter it out.

"I've had some bad run-ins with law-enforcement recently. Every time I've ran into Team Aqua, the authorities have wrongfully tried to tie me to their criminal activities and attempted to arrest me on a number of occasions. It's like they can't believe someone has the balls to stand up to them when push comes to shove and I just…really don't want to have to depend upon the goodwill of a bystander to step in and vouch for me after the handcuffs are clamped on, you know?"

Understanding lit up behind his eyes and he nodded slowly.

"I'll be sure to emphasize just that, if that's the case. If they do need to speak with you—and to be frank, they most likely will—I'll direct them to the Center for the time being. And Miss Courier? Please be safe on your walk back. It's getting late, and I doubt these Team Aqua people have completely dispersed from Slateport yet."

In spite of the exhaustion riddling her, worming its way deeper still into her body, Shay had to girdle up and brace herself for the worst that may come yet. All she and her team could hope for is the best possible outcome.

"I'll be waiting for them, then."

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

 _ **Additional Notes:**_ **I am aware, that in most game art models, Archie's skin appears on the lighter side. However, based on ORAS depictions, he looks a whole lot darker. So, I have decided to forgo the lighter skin tone, and take to the ORAS game art depicting his darker complexion.** _ **Viva la résistance!**_

 **On another note, thank you to all my new readers and subscribers! I'm so happy that you've found my story, and for those who have stuck it out with me, thank you for continuing along this journey with me. I'm so grateful for all of you!**


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three: Point of the Spear

**Chapter Twenty-Three:  
** **Point of the Spear**

 ** _Disclaimer:_** **I do not own the series** ** _Pokémon_** **. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.**

 ** _Notes_** **: I am both sorry and not sorry for the rather large chapter. Think of it as a post-New Year's gift to y'all! Also, I begin my final semester with college, so my workload will be immense; however, I will continue trying to put out chapters as often as I can in the meantime. Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you enjoy today's installment.  
**

 **Current Team** **: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Kirlia, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty**

 **Badges Won** **: Stone Badge, Knuckle Badge**

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

" _You are not so much concerned with ethical principles and traditional answers to traditional questions, for many people have decided to no longer ask themselves these questions. Your main interest is not in formal answers or accurate definitions, but in difficult insights at moments of human crisis. Such insights can hardly be either comforting or translated into a program for solving all the problems of society, but they may perhaps enable a rare person here and there to come alive and be awake at a moment when wakefulness is desirable—a moment of ultimate choice, in which you find yourself challenged to the roots of your very existence."  
_ — **Thomas Merton**

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

She was barely paying attention to much of anything by the time she reached the Slateport Pokémon Center. Shay had declined Ambrose's offer to use Teleport earlier on. "I need to clear my head and a long walk might do just that," she had said. "And it's only thirty minutes away."

Now she was kind of wishing she'd taken his offer. Even after a stop at a local pastry shop—buying a chocolate sauce-filled pastry for herself and several for each of her team as thanks for their hard work—she was still tired.

 _I just want to collapse into bed and sleep until tomorrow._

Her courier days were complete. She was no longer beneath the looming responsibility of working for one of the most powerful corporate leaders in Hoenn. She had nothing left to owe him, other than a courtesy call confirming the completion of her mission. The weight of it all was uplifting and freeing. For once, it felt as though she could actually _breathe_.

And after that…she'd have a sizeable payment shelled out to her, and she wouldn't have to worry so much about money, not for a while.

It hadn't really occurred to her just how small her winnings were for each trainer-led battle until she began tallying up her earnings and dedicating them toward supplies…

There was so much more missing from the games than there were here, in the thick of reality. Those thoughts, however, were just as incorporeal as everything else. The siren call of her borrowed mattress was alluring, but so was the call for something more substantial than a pastry. Her stomach chose that moment, right in the lobby, to let out an explosive growl of protest. She groaned.

 _Perish the thought I don't eat and satisfy my inner fat kid,_ Shay thought with a resigned snort. She craned her head in the general direction of the Center's cafeteria. _We should probably head over there and grab something to take up to the room. It'll be faster than calling down and waiting around for food to come to us._

"Are you Miss Kenway?"

The question took Shay a moment to process, and a moment more to locate who it was that had asked her. A young woman stood not too far from her, hands clasped behind her back as she leaned forward with a wide smile spread across her heart-shaped face. Blue eyes twinkled back at her, sparkling with a mischievous energy as she looked Shay up a down. She pulled one hand free and swept back her pale lavender locks from her burnished rust-coloured gaze, although it did little good. They settled back down as soon as her hand returned to its previous position. She was dressed rather casually, donning a white button-up blouse with a pair of blue jeans and sensible flats. Very nondescript.

 _Is she nurse or something?_ Shay thought, although the sudden stir and shift of her team gave her enough of a signal that it probably wasn't the case.

"I'm sorry, but you have to come with me. There's someone very interested in meeting with you, and if we want to beat the evening crowd, we should leave now."

Shay had enough sense to step back and put some distance between herself and the woman. There was a mean glint in the woman's eyes now, one that Shay didn't trust, not one bit. Keno, Sela, and Luna were quick to fill the space she had just occupied, creating a barrier to separate the strange woman and Shay.

The woman, sensing the rise in aggravation, dropped her smile and carefully studied the pokémon that surrounded Shay.

"I don't want to start anything, especially here. I promise, no harm will come to you as long as you're with me. My…boss just wants a word or two with you."

"If your boss wants "a word or two" with me, he or she can come to me themselves. I'm not going anywhere with you."

While she hadn't put much stock in the phrase " _Stranger Danger_ " as a child, it definitely held more weight to her as an adult now. She was a stranger in a strange land, and while most normal citizens were law-abiding and generally kind, Shay had come to a singular conclusion: humans were rather universal, no matter what reality they resided in. They came in all flavours, all personalities, across the entire spectrum. There was hardly anything resembling a utopia, not like how the games portrayed the world of pokémon. (Not that the pokémon world was anywhere close to being a utopia, she felt it was closer than her world. So far, anyway.)

At the very least, the Nuzlocke runs Shay had invested in had offered up that much insight and truth.

The woman frowned now, all pretense of friendliness slowly slipping away.

"We can do this one of two ways. The first is easy. You walk out of this Center with me, nice and friendly-like without causing a fuss. The second is a whole lot messier and painful. I'd rather go with option one, if it's all the same with you. I'm really not in the mood to teach you a lesson in humility."

The threat hung in the air, thick as mist coiling between them. Shay took stock of the single pokéball hanging from the belt around her waist.

Could she take this woman on? Or would it be a slaughter if she tried?

The now-familiar itch-shiver-scratch of Ambrose's presence pressing in skittered across the backs of her thoughts.

' _Don't try it. Her only pokémon is too powerful, even for me. She would definitely wipe us out and leave you all alone with her in the end. As much as it pains me to admit this, I would go with her.'_

 _Why should I even trust her?_

' _Because she opposes Archie and all of Team Aqua.'_

It clicked seconds later.

 _Team Magma. The enemy—_

'— _of my enemy is my friend. Exactly.'_

The adage did little to comfort her. If Team Magma was willing to pluck people up from the streets on pain of threat and bodily harm, then they weren't all that friendlier than her enemies were. Keno shot her a glance over his shoulder, his gaze full of questioning and uncertainty. Gently, Shay reached forward and place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Stand down, guys," she said to her team. Averting her gaze from them, she met the woman's instead. She didn't like this, any of it. But what choice did she have?

Shay didn't want to lose anyone due to any impulsive and stubborn knee-jerk response she indulged in due to her pride. For the moment, she had to swallow it down, bury it.

"Where is it you're taking us?" Shay pressed, locking eyes with the woman, resolute in not backing down. In response, the woman's chipper countenance returned, bubbly and soft as can be.

"Oh, it's not far. We'll be taking a private car to our location. And not to worry! I'm guessing you're feeling a bit hungry after such a long day, so there'll be food aplenty for you and your team!"

Shay didn't like any of this, not one bit. But again, she had to ask herself if she really had any choice in the matter. If what Ambrose told her was true, this woman's only team member was strong enough to wipe her entire team out completely.

The grave implications of that sent continued to send chills down her spine as she followed the woman in sullen silence, her team filing after her in much the same fashion.

True to the woman's word, as they stepped out of the automatic doors, a black SUV at parked on the curb, quietly idling. The woman climbed into the passenger seat, but not before waving Shay onward into the backseat. Shay held open the door for everyone else before helping scoop Ambrose up in her arms and clambering in herself.

"Seatbelts, everyone!" The woman chimed in with a bell-like chuckle. "Safety is key when traveling by car, after all."

The driver offered a few seconds' time for everyone to buckle in before he pulled from the curb and into the mostly clear streets. Shay kept an eye out for the streets and how far they traveled down them, or what turns they made, while the woman babbled to the driver, as if Shay suddenly didn't exist.

"What do we do?" Keno finally asked, voicing the question that had, up until now, remained unspoken.

"We can't fight her," Ambrose replied, clouded eyes staring ahead blankly. Sela's muzzle pulled into a quiet snarl.

"And why not? We have her outnumbered!"

"Because, if you cared to sift through the scent marks, you'd notice just how…pungent her pokémon's smell is." Luna shot back with a pointed sniff, yellow eyes closing as she sat up straighter on the seat beside Shay. Sela stiffened, her grey hackles bristling, but she did point her snout upwards to give a soft sniff in the air, followed shortly by a gruff growl.

"…point taken." Sela conceded grudgingly. The Poochyena turned her gaze to her trainer. "There's little choice in how we get out of this, isn't there?"

"Best I can offer is to go along with things for now."

 _We don't have to fight to get away. And from what I recall, Team Magma doesn't have any psychic-types in their ranks. We can Teleport back to our room, get our stuff, then hightail it out of town if things go south._

It was a tentative backup plan, but it was better than having nothing to fall back on at all. It was also the smarter course of action. Ambrose quietly approved, but offered patience in lieu of retreating immediately.

' _We might learn some more about the history about Archie and how Team Aqua came to be.'_

 _Couldn't you just pluck that information out from Archie's head?_

 _'_ … _Archie's thoughts were…tumultuous. Focused, but…there was something there, partially shielding him. Perhaps a dark-type on his team that has lent him some minor protections. It happens, when you spend long periods of time with them...or at least, that's what Mother's always told me. I couldn't dig much deeper beyond surface skimming.'_

 _Wonderful._

The rest of the ride went by in relative silence. The woman up front chattered away at the driver, who only offered a few grunts in response to her. Traffic held them up only minimally, and before they all knew it, the SUV was pulling up to a curb once more, in a completely different and unvisited part of Slateport.

The woman twisted in the passenger seat to look back at Shay, her grin plastered back in place.

"Here we are! Hope you brought your appetite; this place has some amazing steaks and sushi." Briefly, her carefree grin shifted into a sly one, with steel backing her gaze. "Maxie doesn't like being kept waiting, so I suggest you get in there. And remember, don't drag your whole team in. If you don't mind the recommendation? I would go with the Poochyena or the Skitty you got there. Easier to find something for them to eat in there."

Shay stepped out onto the curb, squinting against the harsh late afternoon light, gritting her teeth. Even behind her sunglasses, it still hurt. Quickly, she ducked into the shadows and slipped in through a doorway that led to her destination. As her mysterious chauffer had promised, it was a steakhouse restaurant, and the stench of sizzling meat and marinated herbs and spices was intoxicating. Shay's treacherous stomach grumbled and growled from hunger, twisting over itself in protest at the lack of food in it.

A pleasant shiver twisted in a downward spiral along her spine, and briefly, she was drawn in by the delicious, mouthwatering temptation of food, even more so than by sleep.

 _I haven't really let myself have a good meal in a while._

She tried to excuse her lack of self-care with being busy, or distracted, or not being really hungry. She always made sure her team was well fed, but when it came to her own wellbeing…

She could list off all the excuses in the world, but it all really boiled down to one thing, in the end.

Shay was just shit at taking care of own damn self. If she could get away with eating only a bowl of pretzels for the day, she could do it, and in a heartbeat.

Reluctantly, Shay approached the podium where the welcoming host stood, and it was empty for the time being. Shay took the brief respite to recall everyone, except for Sela. The Poochyena pinned her trainer down with her maraschino-bright gaze, questions filling the depths of her eyes.

"I need a wild card," Shay simply said, winking at Sela. "You are definitely something they won't be expecting, especially with your special move."

Sela's black lips twitched into an almost-smile, but she managed to stop it completely as she took her place beside Shay. The host returned shortly after and stared at Shay expectantly as he settled in his spot.

"Are you here by yourself, or is your party already here?"

"I believe they're already here. Maxie, I believe his name is."

 _God, I hope that's it._

The host paused to peruse through an unseen reservations booklet, eyes darting back and forth before he tapped a page with a satisfied light dawning in his eyes. He quickly gathered a menu in one arm, and then motioned for Shay to follow him with the other.

"This way. Mister Domhain has been expecting you."

Sela followed close on Shay's heels as the host led the way through the restaurant. Most of the clientele were dressed up, or at the very least, more appropriately wardrobed than Shay was. Suddenly, she felt rather frumpy in her simple cargo pants, hiking boots, sweat-absorbent tank top, and sling-pack.

The host led her through toward the back of the restaurant until he paused before a set of cream-coloured rice-paper sliding doors. Gently, he gave a sharp report on the wooden frame, gave pause for a few seconds, then cautiously slid the door open.

"This way, Miss Kenway."

Sela made a soft grunt of surprise, and Shay exchanged a look with her.

 _I never gave this guy my name._ She narrowed her eyes as she slowly proceeded past the host, taking the up the menu he offered her. He promptly closed the rice-paper door behind her once she and Sela were within the room. _They really were expecting me._

The room was sparse in terms of decorations or baubles or what-have-you.

The room facing her now was surprisingly traditionally Japanese in comparison to the rest of the restaurant's décor of tables and chairs and tablecloths. It was almost Spartan, to be honest.

 _Some sort of private meeting room for VIPs, maybe?_ Shay wondered, as she also took in the low-leveled table, the tatamis circling the table, a set of paper lanterns providing ambient lighting, and the only person seated in the room.

Just like Archie, it was hard to dismiss the familiarity of the man across the room from Shay.

Shoulder-length and well-kempt crimson hair, an angular face with high cheek bones, smart square-shaped spectacles perched upon a hooked nose, and that outfit was tailor-made and perfectly cut for him. On the left-handed side of his breast, she could make out a familiar sigil stitched in black thread.

It was definitely Maxie, the opposing leader of Team Magma.

 _Oh, joy. It's my lucky day to run in to not one, but_ both _leaders of the eco-terrorists of Hoenn! And in the same fucking day! Hooray._

He sat quietly at the table with his legs tucked underneath him, eyes closed serenely as he sipped from a porcelain teacup. A Mightyena sat beside him, its coat of grey and black fur shiny and healthy, bright crimson eyes flushed with a sharp alertness. Sela's hackles bristled at the sight, but she thankfully kept herself in check.

Maxie's eyes opened as he set his teacup down on the table, gaze piercing and calm as he assessed Shay from his seat.

"Miss Kenway. So glad you could make it."

"I was under the impression I had little choice in the matter."

"Not without some amount of unnecessary violence," Maxie conceded with a nod. He motioned to the seat across from him. "Please. I invite you to join my table. And don't worry about any of the expenses. It is my duty to handle them, as you are my gracious guest this afternoon."

Shay exchanged a glance with Sela. The Poochyena's jaws were clenched, but she reluctantly nodded her head forward. It was enough for Shay, and stiffly, she moved toward the low-set table and carefully folded her legs underneath herself onto a tatami mat, settling the menu with her on the table off to the side.

For the moment, her appetite had vanished in the wake of the serious predicament she's found herself in.

"How was your drive here? I assume Courtney found you at the Pokémon Center."

Shay discovered it hard to swallow when her throat was rough as sandpaper and just as dry.

"She did," she reluctantly confirmed. Shay's brows pinched together in concern. "Why did you have me come here? It's not for a sweet little social call, that's for damn certain."

Maxie raised his teacup to his lips once more, a moment of serene calm in favour of pushing things along. The Mightyena at his side growled softly.

"Impatient whelp," the Mightyena muttered. Shay narrowed her eyes at him, but bit her tongue, withholding her retort. Maxie lowered his teacup, placing it back on the table and motioned to the awaiting intricately designed teapot, plucking an empty teacup with long, practiced fingers.

"Would you care for a cup? I daresay, it's rather soothing."

"I'm not here because you wanted to share a cup of tea with me. I'm here because your goon threatened me into a vehicle and drove me here."

Maxie raised a thin brow at her. "Did she actually threaten you?"

It was a rather piercing question, one that indicated her next few words had better be damn good. Shay hesitated under the steady gaze pinning her down. Shay averted hers quickly, fidgeting a little.

"It wasn't _said_ specifically, but it was _implied_ rather heavily. And you just said that unnecessary violence would be needed if I hadn't come. So yeah, I'm sure there was an underlying threat somewhere in there."

"Mmm. Courtney does have a rather nasty habit of uttering ill-hidden threats. She's a bit…heavy-handed when it comes to negotiations. More of a doer rather than a delegate, if I can judge from her past interactions with people. But, as unfortunate as her implications go, I am here to clear the matter up. I don't wish any harm upon you or your team. I merely wished to touch bases with you, especially in regard to your…recent altercations with Team Aqua."

That wasn't entirely surprising, honestly. Wherever Team Aqua was, it was fair to assume Team Magma wasn't that far behind.

But, if memory served her right, Shay was almost certain she wasn't supposed to meet Maxie—or Team Magma as a whole—until the climactic events of Mount Chimney. And even then, her brush with Team Aqua's opposites were meant to be completely brief at best.

This was uncharted territory for her, as were a number of things she's had to face in Hoenn so far.

"So…you just want to talk about Team Aqua," Shay concluded cautiously, shoulders and back lined with painful tension. Maxie gave a stiff nod as he carefully poured a small amount of tea into the cup before offering it to Shay. Slowly, she reached across the table to accept it, and gave it a small sniff. She wasn't much of a tea person, and frankly, she couldn't tell what flavour it was, but she knew one thing. It wasn't very sweet-smelling.

"I believe you may have come across their leader earlier today, at the Oceanic Museum, if I'm not mistaken."

Shay felt a shiver of alarm slam through her, and Sela pressed in against her thigh, her muzzle lifting into a soft snarl.

"You had spies planted in the museum," Shay said automatically, without really thinking on it. It had to be the only logical explanation. Unless…

"Of course. Archibald has become rather…hazardous in his actions as of late."

"Like harming people? Stealing pokémon? Attempted murder? Bombings?"

Alarm was but a brief expression on Maxie's face as he regarded Shay.

"Nothing as extreme as those last few accusations, but it won't be too long before he resorts to such methods, I'm sure." He breathed softly against the steam of his tea as he brought it up to his face. "But he has resorted to _some_ of what you've listed, and more. It's concerning."

"That's not that great, to be honest."

"That we can agree on."

Maxie took a sip before depositing his cup on the table and lifted a menu up to peruse its contents. Shay watched him, hoping he'd enlighten her more on why she was there, but he alluded to nothing. Reluctantly, she picked up her own menu, hiding her face as she looked over the available meals.

"What do you think?" She softly said to Sela. The Poochyena tilted her head to look past the menu and across the table before leaning back in.

"I…I don't know." Her eyes were bright with curiousity and worry. An unsaid question swam in their depths, one she wouldn't dare voice in mixed company, but Shay understood all the same.

It was no secret that Shay wasn't a born-and-raised citizen of the pokémon world. She was, after all, a stranger in all senses of the word; a person from a world where pokémon were nothing more than a series of entertainment beyond living beings in her could only imagine that, if she most likely wasn't the only one drawn to this world, she at least perhaps had a more sizable, working knowledge of this place than the average person who didn't indulge in nerd-centric things.

The question so clearly conveyed in Sela's eyes was simple, yet complicated all at the same time: _What do you know and what do you remember?_

Maxie, in both _Ruby_ and _Omega Ruby_ , was the leader of the main antagonistic group opposing the player character. In _Sapphire_ and _Alpha Sapphire_ , they were more or less semi-allies to the player characters. _Emerald_ …Shay couldn't recall what happened in _Emerald_ simply because she had never owned or played _Emerald_. She was just in the dark as the rest of her team was…and that terrified her more than she liked admitting.

Gently, half-heartedly, Shay shook her head in answer, perhaps looking about as miserable as she felt. She diverted her focus to the menu, although the words blended and blurred with one another. 'Hibachi steak' was the only thing that truly registered to her, and it was solely because it was one of a few string of familiar words.

A knock on the wooden frames drew Shay's attention and she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. The rice-paper door slid open and a smartly-dressed waiter stepped into the room, a small pad and pen in hand as he approached.

"Sir, ma'am. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No, no. Please, proceed. I believe we're ready to order."

Shay lowered her menu just enough to catch the knowing look Maxie shot her. It made her insides twist and knot themselves together, but it didn't mask how hungry she truly was. Damn her treacherous stomach!

Maxie wasn't one to pass up the opportunity to rattle off his order, and before Shay knew it, she was left with the waiter hanging on her unsaid food request. She scanned the menu quickly, more concerned on take-home orders for the rest of her team before she cleared her throat and dropped the laminated menu and recited what she wanted, including minor changes for herself and drinks. God, she needed a strong one.

When all was said and done, the menus were taken, and she was left alone with nothing but Maxie and his Mightyena to fill in the gaps of conversation and company.

 _What the hell am I supposed to say? 'Fuck Archie and fuck you too'? Jesus Christ on a crutch, I…I'm so…so not ready for any of this crap._

She was infinitely grateful that Maxie didn't utilize any psychic-type pokémon on his team at all, or she'd most likely be in heaps of trouble. Shay eyed the Mightyena seated across from her beside Maxie, noting just how large it actually was. That jutting jawline, rounded ears, and sloping backside…it was like a cross between an actual hyena and a wolf. Not a combination she'd want to face in the wild…but to be fair, Shay wouldn't want to face either species separately on her own, either. Wild animals weren't to be fucked with. Even _she_ knew that much…

"I know that this all seems overbearing, considering how soon my request comes on the heels of your earlier encounter. But would you be willing to offer any insight to your harrowing experiences regarding your recent encounter with Team Aqua and with Archibald, Miss Kenway? I understand if you're not feeling up to it, of course. I don't want to push you too much."

"Honestly, I don't exactly feel comfortable talking about anything with you. I already seem to be in the cops' radars wherever I go because I keep crossing wires with Team Aqua enough as it is."

This turned out to be the wrong thing to say. A light went off in his eyes, and Maxie leaned forward ever so slightly, a hand drifting upwards to run his long fingers through the thick fur of his Mightyena.

"She's lying," the Mightyena rumbled, the black fur along his hackles bristling. That large head swiveled to look at Maxie, then back to her again. "Give me a few minutes along with the little twig of a girl, and I'll get her talking." Those red eyes slid toward Sela, who had quietly been growling besides Shay but now it grew to a crescendo as she leapt to her feet, teeth bared past black lips. "I'll even get her pipsqueak runt to squeal every secret they know, just to be sure."

"Try it, dung-licker!" Sela barked, the linings of her mouth and the curve of her fangs growing coal-bright. Shay briefly tore her eyes away from Maxie to settle on her Poochyena, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end when Maxie's Mightyena bolted upright and seemed just about ready to take a flying leap right at them both.

Maxie managed to calm his team member, and Shay did the same as well. Gently, she coaxed Sela into her lap, running a hand across her head and under her chin, the palm of her hand and pads of her fingers gently pricked by the stubby horns on her skull.

"How unusual. It's not often I see a Poochyena that knows a fire-type move," Maxie spoke up, drawing Shay's attention. She glanced at the man seated across from her, but his attentions were drawn to Sela. He plucked his teacup up and took a contemplative sip of his drink before he spoke again. "One of its parents must have been a fire-type, the father being the most likely culprit. But there is a slight chance the mother could have been…"

Maxie gave pause, frowning, eyes drifting between Sela and Shay. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "My apologies. We're not here to discuss the origins of your half-breed Poochyena."

"No, we're not. You wanted me to act a as a spy for you about Team Aqua, and I decline. I could give two shits about them, given how much trouble I've had because of them. But why should I do you any favours? This meeting right now is about as shady as all my encounters with them, and then some."

Maxie remained largely indifferent to her for the time being, appearing unrushed by her brash retort. He offered no response, and took his time to refill his teacup. His moves were methodical, paced. The Mightyena's growling fell abruptly silent seconds before the door opened, once more admitting their waiter into the room.

He carried another teapot on the tray in his hands, along with a bottle of hot sake, and some kind of brightly coloured cocktail that Shay had already forgotten the name of.

The drinks were dispersed, the old teapot swept away, and the waiter offered a short expectancy for their food as he stepped out of the room. The door slid shut with a soft clack.

Maxie chose that moment to speak. His Mightyena chose that moment to underscore his words with a soft growl that permeated the air.

"I ask of you for this information because it is pertinent if we wish to stop Team Aqua, and most of all, Archibald."

"What's with this 'we' crap? I'm not working for you. I'm fairly sure I've established that _very_ clearly."

Maxie, during the interim while Shay spoke, had taken another languid sip of his drink. His eyes were a deep hazel-green that glinted behind the lenses of his glasses as he studied her face carefully.

"Indeed, you have. But you misunderstand." Maxie gently set his teacup down on the table once more. Shay shifted in her seat, her calves and thighs aching from sitting in this position for so long. "I don't use the collective 'we' as though we are one and the same. I use it as a way to assembly ourselves on the same side. I understand perfectly well that we are not entirely on the same sides where the lines have been drawn. But I can only assume that as we share a common interest, and in the pursuit of that commonality, we could band together in a temporary fashion to take care of the unsightly activities that Archibald has partaken in."

Shay and Sela shared a look that needed absolutely no words. _'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'_ Sela's eyes narrowed, her muzzle twitching, and once again, Shay felt as though the words weren't needed to be said. She turned back to Maxie.

"And what happens afterwards, when we no longer have a common enemy together?"

"Tell me, do you know what Archibald is planning? Did he…insinuate anything?"

Shay's jaw was so tight with tension, she had to fight her own muscles to pry her mouth open. The way he avoided her question was baldly telling. She chose to pour herself a drink of sake into the tiny ceramic cup and pounded it down, frustration simmering within her. It scorched the roof of her mouth and the back of her throat as it swashed about inside. Seconds later, the heady shiver that accompanied it struck her like a bolt out of the blue.

 _Don't be stupid. Don't go spouting off what you know. Don't fuck yourself over. Just...give him something for now._

"He wanted some tech he had one of his goons try to steal back in Rustboro already. President Stone was quite adamant that they reach Captain Stern here in Slateport with as much discretion as possible." Shay paused to pour herself another drink and shot that down her throat as well. "It didn't seem to matter in the end, since he knew who it was going to. He didn't say anything, and I wasn't in the mood to sit around, playing Twenty Questions to figure out what his insidiously devious schemes were."

"I see." Maxie said, his reply simple and clipped. "So, he wasted so much time and effort, dragging a number of his forces into Slateport…all for a few parts and pieces of…"

He seemed to catch himself, and stifled whatever he was about to say. Maxie cleared his throat, politely covering his mouth with his knuckles pressed to his lips.

"My apologies. I hope you don't mind my saying so but…I find it rather ludicrous that Archie would have wasted time, manpower, and resources on a simple retrieval operation. I can understand the shock and awe campaign via overwhelming numbers…but I cannot believe that he'd have done so for someone who is so…"

He fell quiet, and for one single moment, the man opposite Shay looked absolutely dumbfounded, the words hanging in the silence between them, unsaid but felt all the same.

"So sorry I don't meet whatever imaginary expectations you've built up in your head. It's not my problem, though. It's yours."

The Mightyena's growling spiked to a full-on snarl, but before Sela could retaliate, Maxie braced his arm across the large canine's front. The silent gesture was enough to quieten his team member.

"You speak truthfully. I apologize, I didn't intend to insult you. It's just an incredibly surprising move on Archibald's behalf. I suppose I have wasted time, chasing a lead that never was one in the first place. And I suspect, shortly after your entanglement with him, he's chosen to retreat from Slateport for the time being. I have an idea as to where he's heading now, but I'll have to confirm such things myself."

A ghost of a smile curled across Maxie's face. He made a motion toward the table before them.

"But, I think after the harrowing ordeal you've had to endure, a moment of quiet and repose is in order."

It was a jarring moment when Maxie gently pulled himself up to his feet, and at the same time so did his Mightyena. Shay braced herself, hand flying to her hip whilst Sela bolted upright. Maxie made a motion at Shay for her to stand down.

"I will take my leave, but please, feel free to eat, and perhaps allow the rest of your team out so that they may eat here as well. I will cover the costs, as promised."

Maxie gave a low bow to her, and although it appeared grudgingly so, his Mightyena offered a nod of his head. Quietly, without waiting on her to reply, Maxie took his leave. Shay watched from over her shoulder and the corner of her eye. Even when the door closed shut, she strained to listen for at least several minutes more before Sela snorted softly.

"He's gone."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Sela's ears gave a convulsive twitch backwards before settling back again. "You should take advantage of his offer."

"I'm not pushing my luck with the bill."

"I meant, get everyone out here. Now. They need to know what's going on."

Shay cleared her throat, blushing in embarrassment as she mumbled in agreement. One by one, the rest of the team came into being as they were released from their pokéballs. They blinked at their immediate surroundings before settling around the table at Shay's quiet direction. Keno settled on Shay's other side as Breela gently settled in Shay's lap.

Shay promptly adjusted herself, sitting with her legs crossed in front of her. It was infinitely more comfortable and her legs throbbed in relief.

"What's going on? Where are we?"

"A restaurant. And we just met Maxie, Team Magma's leader. He's a presumptuous prick. Surprise!" Shay reached for her fruity cocktail and downed several large gulps. Ice clinked against her teeth and lips, numbing them until she pulled the glass away. She set it down, wishing the food would arrive already. Fuck it, if Maxie was paying for this, that was no sweat off her back. She wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not yet, anyways.

Ambrose tilted his head in Shay's direction, his usual smile mellowed out.

"Perhaps you should fill us in on the intimate details, if we're here alone now."

She glanced at the Kirlia, lips pressing into a tight, thin line. The rest of the team stared at her expectantly. Sela pressed in against her hip, and the warmth from the Poochyena was comforting.

"Right…well, it was Maxie, and he is…pretty disquieting…"

 **OoOoOoOoOoO**

 _ **Additional Notes:**_ **It killed me that I couldn't reference John Mulaney's comedic opinion on "secondary locations", it really did. Unfortunately, since his "** _ **Kid Gorgeous at Radio City**_ **" special aired in 2018 and this story is applied toward mid-summer-ish 2017, I couldn't. Oh well,** _ **c'est la vie**_ **!**

 **Moving on, I'm so very glad to see the influx of new subscribers and readers! Welcome, all!**


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